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DKEAMEES    OF 
THE    GHETTO 


By    I.  ZANGWILL 


PHILADELPHIA 

THE  JEWISH  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICA 

1898 


Copyright,  1898,  by  I.  Zangwill. 


Copyright,  1808,  by  Harhek  &  Rrotiikus. 


Copyright,  1898,  by  The  Jewish  Pi-bucatiqn  Society  op  America. 

All  righU  reservtd. 


rR 


/  P9^ 


PEEFACE 


This  is  a  Chronicle  of  Dreamers,  who  have  arisen  in  the 
Ghetto  from  its  establishment  in  the  sixteenth  century  to 
its  slow  breaking-up  in  our  own  day.  Some  have  become 
historic  in  Jewry,  others  have  penetrated  to  the  ken  of  the 
greater  world  and  afforded  models  to  illustrious  artists  in 
letters,  and  but  for  the  exigencies  of  my  theme  and  the 
faint  hope  of  throwing  some  new  light  upon  them,  I  should 
not  have  ventured  to  treat  them  afresh ;  the  rest  are  per- 
sonally known  to  me  or  are,  like  "Joseph  the  Dreamer," 
the  artistic  typification  of  many  souls  through  which  the 
great  Ghetto  dream  has  passed.  Artistic  truth  is  for  me 
literally  the  highest  truth :  art  may  seize  the  essence  of 
persons  and  movements  no  less  truly,  and  certainly  far 
more  vitally,  than  a  scientific  generalization  unifies  a  chaos 
of  phenomena.  Time  and  Space  are  only  the  conditions 
tlirough  which  spiritual  facts  straggle.  Hence  I  have  here 
and  there  permitted  myself  liberties  with  these  categories. 
Have  I,  for  instance,  misplaced  the  moment  of  Spinoza's 
obscure  love-episode — I  have  only  followed  his  own  princi- 
ple, to  see  things  mih  specie  CBternitatis,  and  even  were  his 
latest  Dutch  editor  correct  in  denying  the  episode  alto- 
gether, I  should  still  hold  it  true  as  summarizing  the  emo- 
tions with  which  even  the  philosopher  must  reckon.  Of 
Heine  I  have  attempted  a  sort  of  composite  conversation- 
photograph,  blending,  too,  the  real  heroine  of  the  little 


PREFACE 

episode  with  ''La  Mouche."  His  own  words  will  be  rec- 
ognized by  all  students  of  him — I  can  only  hope  the  joins 
with  mine  are  not  too  obvious.  My  other  sources,  too,  lie 
sometimes  as  plainly  on  the  surface,  but  I  have  often  delved 
at  less  accessible  quarries.  For  instance,  I  owe  the  celes- 
tial vision  of  "The  Master  of  the  Name"  to  a  Hebrew 
original  kindly  shown  me  by  my  friend  Dr.  S.  Schechter, 
Reader  in  Talmudic  at  Cambridge,  to  whose  luminous  essay 
on  the  Chassidim,  in  his  Studies  in  Judaism,  I  have  a  fur- 
ther indebtedness.  My  account  of  "  Maimon  the  Fool"  is 
based  on  his  own  (not  always  reliable)  autobiography,  of 
which  I  have  extracted  the  dramatic  essence,  though  in 
the  supplementary  part  of  the  story  I  have  had  to  antedate 
slightly  the  publication  of  Mendelssohn's  "  Jerusalem  "  and 
the  fame  of  Kant.  In  fine,  I  have  never  hesitated  to  take 
as  an  historian  or  to  focus  and  interpret  as  an  imaginative 
artist. 

I  have  placed  *'A  Child  of  the  Ghetto"  first,  not  only 
because  the  Venetian  Jewry  first  bore  the  name  of  Ghetto, 
but  because  this  chapter  may  be  regarded  as  a  prelude  to 
all  the  others.  Though  the  Dream  pass  through  Smyrna 
or  Amsterdam,  through  Rome  or  Cairo,  through  Jerusalem 
or  the  Carpathians,  through  London  or  Berlin  or  New 
York,  almost  all  the  Dreamers  had  some  such  childhood, 
and  it  may  serve  to  explain  them.  It  is  the  early  environ- 
ment from  which  they  all  more  or  less  emerged. 

And  there  is  a  sense  in  which  the  stories  all  lead  on  to 
that  which  I  have  placed  last.  The  "  Child  of  the  Ghetto  " 
may  be  considered  "father  to  the  man  "  of  "Chad  Gadya" 
in  that  same  city  of  the  sea. 

For  this  book  is  the  story  of  a  Dream  that  has  not  come 
trne. 

J.  Z. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Prelude  :  Moses  and  Jesus viii 

A  Child  of  the  Ghetto 1 

Joseph  the  Dreamer 21 

Uriel  Acosta 68 

The  Turkish  Messiah 115 

The  Maker  of  Lenses 186 

The  jMaster  of  the  Name 221 

Maimon  the  Fool  and  Nathan  the  Wise 389 

From  a  Mattress  Grave 335 

The  People's  Saviour 369 

The  Primrose  Sphin.x 424 

Dreamers  in  Congress 430 

The  Palestine  Pilgrim 441 

The  Conciliator  of  Christendom 453 

The  Joyous  Co.mrade 480 

Chad  Gadya 493 

Epilogue  :  A  Modern  Scribe  in  Jerusalem 514 


DREAMERS   OF   THE   GHETTO 


MOSES   AND    JESUS 

In  dream  I  saw  tico  Jews  tliat  met  by  chance. 
One  old,  stern-eyed,  deep-browed,  yet  garlanded 
With  living  light  of  love  around  his  Jiead, 
The  otMr  young,  with  sweet  seraphic  glance. 
Around  xcent  on  the  Town's  satanic  dance. 
Hunger  a-piping  while  at  Jieart  he  bled. 
Shalom  AleicLiem  mournfully  each  said, 
Kor  eyed  the  other  straight  but  looked  askance. 

Sudden  from  Church  out  rolled  an  organ  hymn. 
From  Synagogue  a  loudly  chaunted  air. 
Each  with  its  PropheVs  high  acclaim  instinct. 
Then  for  the  first  time  met  tlieir  eyes,  S7cift-linked 
In  one  strange,  silent,  piteous  gaze,  and  dim 
With  bitter  tears  of  agonized  despaii: 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   GHETTO 


The  first  thing  tlie  cliild  remembered  was  looking  down 
from  a  window  and  seeing,  ever  so  far  below,  green  water 
flowing,  and  on  it  gondolas  plying,  and  fishing-boats  with 
colored  sails,  the  men  in  them  looking  as  small  as  children. 
For  he  was  born  in  the  Ghetto  of  Venice,  on  the  seventh 
story  of  an  ancient  house.  There  were  tAvo  more  stories, 
np  which  he  never  went,  and  which  remained  strange  re- 
gions, leading  towards  the  blue  sky.  A  dusky  staircase, 
Avith  gaunt  whitewashed  walls,  led  down  and  down — past 
doors  whose  lintels  all  bore  little  tin  cases  containing  holy 
Hebrew  words — into  the  narrow  court  of  the  oldest  Ghetto 
in  the  Avorld.  A  few  yards  to  the  right  Avas  a  portico  lead- 
ing to  the  bank  of  a  canal,  but  a  grim  iron  gate  barred  the 
way.  The  Avater  of  another  canal  came  right  up  to  the  back 
of  the  Ghetto,  and  cut  off  all  egress  that  Avay  ;  and  the  oth- 
er porticoes  leading  to  the  outer  Avorld  Avere  likeAvise  pro- 
vided Avith  gates,  guarded  by  Venetian  Avatchmen.  Tliese 
gates  Avere  closed  at  midnight  and  opened  in  the  morning, 
unless  it  was  the  Sabbath  or  a  Christian  holiday,  Avhen  they 
remained  shut  all  day,  so  that  no  Jcav  could  go  in  or  out  of 
the  court,  the  street,  the  big  and  little  square,  and  the  one 
or  two  tiny  alleys  that  made  up  the  Ghetto.  There  Avere  no 
roads  in  the  Giietto,  any  more  than  in  the  rest  of  Venice ; 
A  1 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

nothing  but  pavements  ever  echoing  the  tramp  of  feet.  At 
niffht  the  watchmen  rowed  round  and  round  its  canals  in 
hirge  barcas,  which  the  Jews  had  to  pay  for.  But  the  child 
did  not  feel  a  prisoner.  As  he  had  no  wish  to  go  outside 
the  gates,  he  did  not  feel  the  chain  that  would  have  drawn 
liim  back  again,  like  a  dog  to  a  kennel;  and  although  all 
the  men  and  women  he  knew  wore  yellow  hats  and  large 
O's  on  their  breasts  when  they  went  into  the  world  beyond, 
yet  for  a  long  time  the  child  scarcely  realized  that  there 
were  people  in  the  Avorld  who  were  not  Jews,  still  less  that 
these  hats  and  these  rounds  of  yellow  cloth  were  badges  of 
shame  to  mark  off  the  Jews  from  the  other  people.  He 
did  not  even  know  that  all  little  boys  did  not  wear  under 
their  waistcoats  ''Four -corners,"  colored  shoulder-straps 
with  squares  of  stuif  at  each  end,  and  white  fringes  at  each 
corner,  and  that  they  did  not  say, ''  Hear,  0  Israel,  the  Lord 
is  our  God,  the  Lord  is  One,"  as  they  kissed  the  fringes. 
No,  the  Ghetto  was  all  his  world,  and  a  mighty  universe  it 
was,  full  of  everything  that  the  heart  of  a  child  could  de- 
sire. What  an  eager  swarm  of  life  in  the  great  sunny  square 
where  the  Venetian  mast  towered  skywards,  and  pigeons 
sometimes  strutted  among  the  crowd  that  hovered  about 
the  countless  shops  under  the  encircling  colonnade — pawn- 
shops, old-clo'  shops,  butcher-shops,  wherein  black-boarded 
men  with  yellow  turbans  bargained  in  Hebrew  I  AVhat  a 
fascination  in  the  tall,  many-windowed  houses,  with  their 
peeling  plastered  fronts  and  patches  of  bald  red  brick,  their 
green  and  brown  shutters,  their  rusty  balconies,  their  splash- 
es of  many-colored  Avashing  !  Li  the  morning  and  evening, 
when  the  padlocked  well  was  opened,  what  delight  to  watch 
the  women  drawing  water,  or  even  to  help  tug  at  the  chain 
that  turned  the  axle.  And  on  the  bridge  that  led  from  the 
Old  Ghetto  to  the  New,  where  the  canal,  though  the  view 
was  brief,  disappeared  round  two  corners,  how  al)sorbing  to 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

stand  and  speculate  on  what  might  be  coming  round  either 
corner,  and  which  would  yield  a  vision  first !  Perhaps  there 
would  come  along  a  sandolo  rowed  by  a  man  standing  at 
the  back,  his  two  oars  crossed  gracefully ;  perhaps  a  float- 
ing raft  with  barefooted  boys  bestriding  it ;  perhaps  a  barca 
punted  by  men  in  blue  blouses,  one  at  front  and  two  at  the 
back,  with  a  load  of  golden  ha}^,  or  with  provisions  for  the 
Ghetto — glowing  fruit  and  picturesque  vegetables,  or  bleat- 
ing sheep  and  bellowing  bulls,  coming  to  be  killed  by  the 
Jewish  method.  The  canal  that  bounded  the  Ghetto  at  the 
back  offered  a  much  more  extended  view,  but  one  hardly 
dared  to  stand  there,  because  the  other  shore  was  foreign, 
and  the  strange  folk  called  Venetians  lived  there,  and  some 
of  these  heathen  roughs  might  throw  stones  across  if  they 
saw  you.  Still,  at  night  one  could  creeiJ  there  and  look 
along  the  moonlit  water  and  up  at  the  stars.  Of  the  world 
that  lay  on  the  other  side  of  the  water,  he  only  knew  that 
it  was  large  and  hostile  and  cruel,  though  from  his  high 
window  he  loved  to  look  out  towards  its  great  unknown 
spaces,  mysterious  with  the  domes  and  spires  of  mighty 
buildings,  or  towards  those  strange  mountains  that  rose 
seawards,  white  and  misty,  like  the  hills  of  dream,  and 
which  he  thought  must  be  like  Mount  Sinai,  where  God 
spake  to  ^Moses.  He  never  thought  that  fairies  might  live 
iu  them,  or  gnomes  or  pixies,  for  he  had  never  heard  of 
such  creatures.  There  were  good  spirits  and  bad  spirits 
in  the  world,  but  they  floated  invisibly  in  the  air,  trying  to 
make  little  boys  good  or  sinful.  They  were  always  fight- 
ing with  one  another  for  little  boys'  souls.  But  on  the 
Sabbath  your  bad  angel  had  no  power,  and  your  guardi- 
an Sabbath  angel  hovered  triumphantly  around,  assisting 
your  every -day  good  angel,  as  you  might  tell  by  noticing 
how  you  cast  two  shadows  instead  of  one  when  the  two 
Sabbath  candles  were  lighted.     How  beautiful  were  those 

8 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Friday  evenings,  how  snowy  the  table-cloth,  liow  sweet 
everything  tasted,  and  how  restful  the  atmosphere  !  Such 
delicious  peace  for  father  and  mother  after  the  labors  of 
the  week  ! 

It  Avas  the  Sabbath  Fire-woman  who  forced  clearly  upon 
the  child's  understanding — what  was  long  but  a  dim  idea 
in  the  background  of  his  mind — that  the  world  was  not  all 
Jews.  For  while  the  people  who  lived  inside  the  gates  had 
been  chosen  and  consecrated  to  the  service  of  the  God  of 
Israel,  who  had  brought  them  out  of  Egyptian  bondage  and 
made  them  slaves  to  Himself,  outside  the  gates  were  people 
who  were  not  expected  to  obey  the  law  of  Moses  ;  so  that 
while  he  might  not  touch  the  fire — nor  even  the  candlesticks 
which  had  held  fire — from  Friday  evening  to  Saturday  night, 
the  Fire-woman  could  poke  and  poke  at  the  logs  to  her 
heart's  content.  She  poked  her  way  up  from  the  ground- 
floor  through  all  the  seven  stories,  and  went  on  higher,  a 
sort  of  fire-spirit  poking  her  way  skywards.  She  had  other 
strange  privileges,  this  little  old  woman  with  the  shawl  over 
her  head,  as  the  child  discovered  gradually.  For  she  could 
eat  pig-flesh  or  shell-fish  or  fowls  or  cattle  killed  anyhow ; 
she  could  even  eat  butter  directly  after  meat,  instead  of 
having  to  wait  six  hours — nay,  she  could  have  butter  and 
meat  on  the  same  plate,  wherefis  the  child's  mother  had 
quite  a  different  set  of  pots  and  dishes  for  meat  things  or 
butter  things.  Yes,  the  Fire-woman  Avas  indeed  an  inferior 
creature,  existing  mainly  to  boil  the  Ghetto's  tea-kettles 
and  snuff  its  candles,  and  was  well  rewarded  by  the  copper 
coin  which  she  gathered  from  every  hearth  as  soon  as  one 
might  touch  money.  For  when  three  stars  appeared  in  the 
sky  the  Fire-woman  sank  back  into  her  ]irimitive  insignifi- 
cance, and  the  child's  father  made  the  Habdalah,  or  cere- 
mony of  division  between  week-day  and  Sabbath,  thanking 
God   who  dividotli   holiday  from   working- day,  and   light 

4 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

from  darkness.  Over  a  brimming  wine-cup  he  made  the 
blessing,  holding  his  bent  fingers  to  a  wax  taper  to  make  a 
symbolical  appearance  of  shine  and  shadow,  and  passing 
round  a  box  of  sweet-smelling  spices.  And,  when  the 
chanting  was  over,  the  child  was  given  to  sip  of  the  wine. 
Many  delicious  mouthfuls  of  wine  were  associated  in  his 
mind  with  religion.  He  had  them  in  the  synagogue  itself 
on  Friday  nights  and  on  Festival  nights,  and  at  home  as 
well,  particularly  at  Passover,  on  the  first  two  evenings  of 
which  his  little  wine-glass  was  replenished  no  less  than  four 
times  with  mild,  sweet  liquid.  A  large  glass  also  stood 
ready  for  Elijah  the  Prophet,  which  the  invisible  visitor 
drank,  though  the  wine  never  got  any  lower.  It  was  a 
delightful  period  altogether,  this  feast  of  Passover,  from 
the  day  before  it,  when  the  last  crumbs  of  bread  and  leav- 
ened matter  were  solemnly  burnt  (for  no  one  might  eat 
bread  for  eight  days)  till  the  rery  last  moment  of  the  eighth 
day,  when  the  long-forbidden  bread  tasted  as  sweet  and 
strange  as  cake.  The  mere  change  of  kitchen  vessels  had 
a  charm :  new  saucepans,  new  plates,  new  dishes,  new 
spoons,  new  everything,  in  harmony  with  the  Passover 
cakes  that  took  the  place  of  bread — large  thick  biscuits, 
baked  without  yeast,  full  of  holes,  or  speckled  and  spotted. 
And  when  the  evening  tab!e  was  laid  for  the  Seder  service, 
looking  oh  !  so  quaint  and  picturesque,  with  wine-cups 
and  strange  dishes,  the  roasted  shank-bone  of  a  lamb,  bitter 
herbs,  sweet  spices,  and  what  not,  and  with  everybody  loll- 
ing around  it  on  white  pillows,  the  child's  soul  Avas  full  of 
a  tender  poetry,  and  it  was  a  joy  to  him  to  ask  in  Hebrew  : — 
"Wherein  doth  this  night  differ  from  all  other  nights? 
For  on  all  other  nights  we  may  eat  leavened  and  unleavened, 
but  to-night  only  unleavened  ?"  lie  asked  the  question  out 
of  a  large  thin  book,  gay  with  pictures  of  the  Ten  Plagues 
of  Egypt  and  the  wicked  Pharaoh  sitting  with  a  hard  heart 

5 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

on  fi  hard  throne.  His  father's  reply,  which  was  also  in 
Hebrew,  lasted  some  two  or  three  hours,  being  mixed  up 
with  eating  and  drinking  the  nice  things  and  the  strange 
dishes  ;  which  was  tlie  only  part  of  the  reply  the  child  really 
understood,  for  the  Hebrew  itself  was  very  difficult.  But 
he  knew  generally  what  the  Feast  was  about,  and  his  ques- 
tion was  only  a  matter  of  form,  for  he  grew  np  asking  it 
year  after  year,  with  a  feigned  surprise.  Nor,  though  he 
learned  to  understand  Hebrew  well,  and  could  even  translate 
his  daily  prayers  into  bad  Italian,  a  corruption  of  the  Vene- 
tian dialect  finding  its  way  into  the  Ghetto  through  the 
mouths  of  the  people  who  did  business  with  the  outside 
world,  did  he  ever  really  think  of  the  sense  of  his  prayers 
as  he  gabbled  them  olf,  morning,  noon,  and  night.  There 
was  so  much  to  say — whole  books  full.  It  was  a  great 
temjitatiou  to  skip  the  driest  pages,  but  he  never  yielded 
to  it,  conscientiously  scampering  even  through  the  passages 
in  the  tiniest  type  that  had  a  diffident  air  of  expecting 
attention  from  only  able-bodied  adults.  Part  of  the  joy 
of  Sabbaths  and  Festivals  was  the  change  of  prayer-diet. 
Even  the  Grace — that  long  prayer  chanted  after  bodily  diet 
— had  refreshing  little  variations.  For,  just  as  the  child 
put  on  his  best  clothes  for  Festivals,  so  did  his  prayers 
seem  to  clothe  themselves  in  more  beautiful  words,  and  to 
be  said  out  of  more  beautiful  books,  and  with  more  beautiful 
tunes  to  them.  Melody  played  a  large  part  in  the  synagogue 
services,  so  that,  although  he  did  not  think  of  the  meaning 
of  the  prayers,  they  lived  in  his  mind  as  music,  and,  sor- 
rowful or  joyous,  they  often  sang  themselves  in  his  brain  in 
after  years.  There  were  three  consecutive  "Aniens  "  in  the 
afternoon  service  of  the  three  Festivals — Passover,  Pente- 
cost, Tabernacles — that  had  a  quaint  charm  for  him.  The 
lirst  two  were  sounded  staccato,  the  last  rounded  olf  the 
theuic,  and  died  away,  slow  and  lingering.     Nor,  though 

6 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

there  were  double  jirayers  to  say  on  these  occasions,  did 
they  weigh  upon  him  as  a  burden,  for  the  extra  bits  Avere 
insinuated  between  the  familiar  bits,  like  hills  or  flowers 
suddenly  sprung  up  in  unexpected  places  to  relieve  the 
monotony  of  a  much-travelled  road.  And  then  these  extra 
prayers  were  printed  so  prettily,  they  rhymed  so  profusely. 
Many  were  clever  acrostics,  going  right  through  the  alphabet 
from  Aleph,  Avhicli  is  A,  to  Tau,  which  is  T,  for  Z  comes 
near  the  beginning  of  the  Hebrew  alphabet.  These  acros- 
tics, written  in  the  Middle  Ages  by  pious  rabbis,  permeated 
the  Festival  prayer-books,  and  even  when  the  child  had  to 
confess  his  sins — or  rather  those  of  the  whole  community, 
for  each  member  of  the  brotherhood  of  Israel  was  responsi- 
ble for  the  rest — he  sinned  his  sin  with  an  " K,"  he  sinned 
his  sin  with  a  "  B,"  and  so  on  till  he  could  sin  no  longer. 
And,  when  the  prayers  rhymed,  how  exhilarating  it  was  to 
lay  stress  on  each  rhyme  and  double  rhyme,  shouting  them 
fervidly.  And  sometimes,  instead  of  rhyming,  they  ended 
with  the  same  phrase,  like  the  refrain  of  a  ballad,  or  the 
chorus  of  a  song,  and  then  what  a  joyful  relief,  after  a  long 
breathless  helter-skelter  through  a  strange  stanza,  to  come 
out  on  the  old  familiar  ground,  and  to  shout  exultantly, 
**For  His  mercy  endurcth  for  ever,"  or  ''The  appearance 
of  the  priest !"  Sometimes  the  run  was  briefer — through 
one  line  only — and  ended  on  a  single  word  like  "water"  or 
''fire."  And  what  pious  fun  it  was  to  come  down  sharp 
\\])0\\  fire  ov  water !  They  stood  out  friendly  and  simple, 
the  rest  was  such  curious  and  involved  Hebrew  that  some- 
times, in  an  audacious  moment,  the  child  wondered  whether 
even  his  father  understood  it  all,  despite  that  he  wept 
freely  and  bitterly  over  certain  acrostics,  especially  on  the 
Judgment  Days.  It  was  awe-inspiring  to  think  that  the 
angels,  who  were  listening  up  in  heaven,  understood  every 
word  of  it.      And  he  inclined  to  think  that  the  Caiitor, 

7 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

or  minister  who  led  the  praying,  also  understood ;  he  sang 
with  such  feeling  and  such  fervid  roulades.  Many  solos 
did  the  Cantor  troll  fortli,  to  which  the  congregation  lis- 
tened in  silent  rapture.  The  only  time  the  public  prayers 
bored  the  child  was  on  the  Sabbath,  when  the  minister 
read  the  Portion  of  the  Week  ;  the  Five  Books  of  Moses 
being  read  through  once  a  year,  week  by  Aveek,  in  a  strange 
sing  -  song  with  only  occasional  flights  of  melody.  The 
chant  was  determined  by  curious  signs  printed  under  the 
words,  and  the  signs  that  made  nice  music  were  rather 
rare,  and  the  nicest  sign  of  all,  which  spun  out  the  word 
with  endless  turns  and  trills,  like  the  carol  of  a  bird,  oc- 
curred only  a  few  times  in  the  whole  Pentateuch.  The 
child,  as  he  listened  to  the  interminable  incantation, 
thought  he  would  have  sprinkled  the  Code  with  bird- 
songs,  and  made  the  Scroll  of  the  Law  warble.  But  he 
knew  this  could  not  be.  For  the  Scroll  was  stern  and 
severe  and  dignified,  like  the  high  members  of  the  congre- 
gation who  bore  it  aloft,  or  furled  it,  and  adjusted  its 
wrapper  and  its  tinkling  silver  bells.  Even  the  soberest 
musical  signs  were  not  marked  on  it,  nay,  it  was  bare  of 
punctuation,  and  even  of  vowels.  Only  the  Hebrew  con- 
sonants were  to  be  seen  on  the  sacred  parchment,  and  they 
were  written,  not  printed,  for  the  printing-press  is  not 
like  the  reverent  hand  of  the  scribe.  The  child  thought 
it  was  a  marvellous  feat  to  read  it,  much  less  know  pre- 
cisely how  to  chant  it.  Seven  men — first  a  man  of  the 
tribe  of  Aaron  the  High  Priest,  then  a  Levite,  and  then 
five  ordinary  Israelites — were  called  up  to  the  platform  to 
stand  by  while  the  Scroll  was  being  intoned,  and  their 
arrivals  and  departures  broke  the  monotony  of  the  recita- 
tive. After  the  Law  came  the  Prophets,  .which  revived 
the  child's  interest,  for  they  had  another  and  a  quainter 
melody,  in  the  minor  mode,  full  of  half  tones  and  delicious 

8 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

sadness  that  ended  in  a  peal  of  exultation.  For  the  Proph- 
ets, though  they  thundered  against  the  iniquities  of  Israel, 
and  preached  "Woe,  woe,"  also  foretold  comfort  when  tlie 
period  of  captivity  and  contempt  should  be  over,  and  the 
Messiah  would  come  and  gather  His  people  from  the  four 
corners  of  the  earth,  and  the  Temple  should  be  rebuilt  in 
Jerusalem,  and  all  the  nations  would  worship  the  God  who 
had  given  His  law  to  the  Jews  on  Mount  Sinai.  In  the 
meantime,  only  Israel  was  bound  to  obey  it  in  every  let- 
ter, because  only  the  Jews — born  or  unborn — had  agreed 
to  do  so  amid  the  thunders  and  lightnings  of  Sinai.  Even 
the  child's  unborn  soul  had  been  present  and  accepted  the 
yoke  of  the  Torah.  He  often  tried  to  recall  the  episode, 
but  although  he  could  picture  the  scene  quite  well,  and 
see  the  souls  curling  over  the  mountains  like  white  clouds, 
he  could  not  remember  being  among  them.  No  doubt  he 
had  forgotten  it,  with  his  other  pre-natal  experiences — 
like  the  two  Angels  who  had  taught  him  Torah  and  shown 
him  Paradise  of  a  morning  and  Hell  every  evening — when 
at  the  moment  of  his  birth  the  Angel's  finger  had  struck 
him  on  the  upper  lip  and  sent  him  into  the  world  crying 
at  the  pain,  and  with  that  dent  under  the  nostrils  which, 
in  every  human  face,  is  the  seal  of  oblivion  of  the  celes- 
tial spheres.  But  on  the  anniversary  of  the  great  Day  of 
the  Decalogue — on  the  Feast  of  Pentecost — the  synagogue 
was  dressed  with  flowers.  Flowers  were  not  easy  to  get 
in  Venice — that  city  of  stones  and  the  sea — yet  every  syn- 
agogue (and  there  were  seven  of  them  in  that  narrow 
Ghetto,  some  old  and  beautiful,  some  poor  and  humble) 
had  its  pillars  or  its  balconies  twined  with  roses,  narcissi, 
lilies,  and  pansies.  Prettier  still  were  the  customs  of 
"  Tabernacles,"  when  the  wooden  booths  were  erected  in 
the  square  or  the  courtyards  of  the  synagogues  in  coni- 
memoration  of  the  days  when  the  Children  of  Israel  lived 

9 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

in  tents  in  the  wilderness.  The  child's  father,  being  par- 
ticularly pious,  had  a  booth  all  to  himself,  thatched  with 
green  boughs,  and  hung  with  fruit,  and  furnished  with 
chairs  and  a  table  at  which  the  child  sat,  with  the  blue 
sky  playing  joeep-bo  through  the  leaves,  and  the  white 
table-cloth  astir  with  quivering  shadows  and  glinting 
sunbeams.  And  towards  the  lust  days  of  the  Festival 
he  began  to  eat  awa}^  the  roof,  consuming  the  dangling 
apples  and  oranges,  and  the  tempting  grapes.  And  through- 
out this  beautiful  Festival  the  synagogue  rustled  with  palm 
branches,  tied  Avith  boughs  of  willows  of  the  brook  and 
branches  of  other  pleasant  trees — as  commanded  in  Levit- 
icus— which  the  men  waved  and  shook,  pointing  them  east 
and  west  and  north  and  south,  and  then  heavenwards,  and 
smelling  also  of  citron  kept  in  boxes  lined  with  white  wool. 
As  one  could  not  breakfast  before  blessing  the  branches 
and  the  citron,  a  man  carried  them  round  to  such  of  the 
women-folk  as  household  duties  kept  at  home  —  and  in- 
deed, home  was  a  woman's  first  place,  and  to  light  the  Sab- 
bath lamp  a  woman's  holiest  duty,  and  even  at  synagogue 
she  sat  in  a  grated  gallery  away  from  the  men  downstairs. 
On  the  seventh  day  of  Tabernacles  the  child  had  a  little 
bundle  of  leafy  boughs  styled  '' Hosannas,"  which  he  whip- 
ped on  the  synagogue  bench,  his  sins  falling  away  with  the 
leaves  that  flew  to  the  ground  as  he  cried,  "  Hosauna,  save 
us  now  !"  All  through  the  night  his  father  prayed  in 
the  synagogue,  but  the  child  went  home  to  bed,  after  a 
gallant  struggle  Avitli  his  closing  eyelids,  hoping  not  to  see 
his  headless  shadow  on  the  stones,  for  that  was  a  sign  of 
death.  But  the  ninth  day  of  Tabernacles  was  the  best, 
**  The  Rejoicing  of  the  Law,"  when  the  fifty-second  por- 
tion of  the  Pentateuch  was  finished  and  the  first  portion 
begun  immediately  all  over  again,  to  show  that  the  "  rejoic- 
ing "was  not  because  the  congregation  was  glad  to  be  done 

10 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

with  it.  The  man  called  up  to  the  last  portion  was  termed 
*'  The  Bridegroom  of  the  Law/'  and  to  the  first  portion  '*'  The 
Bridegroom  of  the  Beginning,"  and  they  made  a  wedding- 
feast  to  Avhich  everybody  Avas  invited.  The  boys  scrambled 
for  sweets  on  the  synagogue  floor.  The  Scrolls  of  the  Law 
were  carried  round  and  round  seven  times,  and  the  boys 
were  in  the  procession  with  flags  and  wax  tapers  in  candle- 
sticks of  hollow  carrots,  joining  lustily  in  the  poem  Avith 
its  alternative  refrain  of  "Save  us,  we  pray  Thee,"  "  Pros- 
per us,  we  pray  Thee."  So  gay  was  the  minister  that  he 
could  scarcely  refrain  from  dancing,  and  certainly  his  voice 
danced  as  it  sang.  There  was  no  other  time  so  gay,  except 
it  was  Purim — the  feast  to  celebrate  Queen  Esther's  redemp- 
tion of  her  people  from  the  wicked  Haman — when  everybody 
sent  presents  to  everybody  else,  and  the  men  wore  comic 
masks  or  dressed  up  as  women  and  performed  little  plays. 
The  child  went  about  with  a  great  false  nose,  and  when  the 
name  of  "  Haman  "  came  up  in  the  reading  of  the  Book  of 
Esther,  which  was  intoned  in  a  refreshingly  new  way,  he 
tapped  vengefully  with  a  little  hammer  or  turned  the  han- 
dle of  a  little  toy  that  made  a  grinding  noise.  The  other 
feast  in  celebration  of  a  Jewish  redemption — Chanukah,  or 
Dedication  —  was  almost  as  impressive,  for  in  memory  of 
the  miracle  of  the  oil  that  kept  the  perpetual  light  burn- 
ing in  the  Temple  when  Judas  Maccabaeus  reconquered  it 
from  the  Greek  gods,  the  Ghetto  lighted  candles,  one  on 
the  first  night  and  two  on  the  second,  and  so  on  till  there 
were  eight  burning  in  a  row,  to  say  nothing  of  the  candle 
that  kindled  the  others  and  was  called  "  The  Beadle,"  and 
the  child  sang  hymns  of  praise  to  the  Rock  of  Salvation  as 
he  watched  the  serried  flames.  And  so,  in  this  inner  world 
of  dreams  the  child  lived  and  grew,  his  vision  turned  back 
towards  ancient  Palestine  and  forwards  towards  some  vague 
Restoration,  his  days  engirdled  with  prayer  and  ceremony, 

11 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

his  very  games  of  ball  or  nuts  sanctified  by  Sandalphon, 
the  boy-angel,  to  whom  he  prayed  :  "0  Sandalphon,  Lord 
of  the  Forest,  protect  us  from  pain." 


II 

There  were  two  things  in  the  Ghetto  that  had  a  strange 
attraction  for  the  child  :  one  was  a  large  marble  slab  on  the 
wall  near  his  house,  which  he  gradually  made  out  to  be  a 
decree  that  Jews  converted  to  Christianity  should  never 
return  to  the  Ghetto  nor  consort  with  its  inhabitants,  un- 
der penalty  of  the  cord,  the  gallows,  the  prison,  the  scourge, 
or  the  pillory  ;  the  other  was  a  marble  figure  of  a  beautiful 
girl  '^vith  falling  draperies  that  lay  on  the  extreme  wall  of 
the  Ghetto,  surveying  it  with  serene  eyes. 

Relic  and  emblem  of  an  earlier  era,  she  co-operated  with 
the  slab  to  remind  the  child  of  the  strange  vague  world 
outside,  where  people  of  forbidden  faith  carved  forbidden 
images.  But  he  never  went  outside  ;  at  least  never  more 
than  a  few  streets,  for  what  should  he  do  in  Venice  ?  As 
he  grew  old  enough  to  be  useful,  his  father  employed  him 
in  his  pawn-shop,  and  for  recreation  there  was  always  the 
synagogue  and  the  study  of  the  Bible  with  its  commen- 
taries, and  the  endless  volumes  of  the  Talmud,  that  chaos  of 
Rabbinical  lore  and  legislation.  And  when  he  approached 
his  thirteenth  year,  he  began  to  prepare  to  become  a  "Son 
of  the  Commandment."  For  at  thirteen  the  child  was  con- 
sidered a  man.  His  sins,  the  responsibility  of  which  had 
hitherto  been  upon  his  father's  shoulders,  would  now  fall 
upon  his  oAvn,  and  from  counting  for  as  little  as  a  woman 
in  the  congregation,  he  would  become  a  full  unit  in  mak- 
ing up  the  minimum  of  ten  men,  without  which  public 
worship  could  not  be  held.     And  so,  not  only  did  he  come 

12 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

to  own  a  man's  blue -striped  praying-shawl  to  wrap  himself 
in,  but  he  began  to  "lay  phylacteries,"  winding  the  first 
leather  strap  round  his  left  arm  and  its  fingers,  so  that  the 
little  cubical  case  containing  the  holy  words  sat  upon  the 
fleshy  part  of  the  upper  arm,  and  binding  the  second  strap 
round  his  forehead  with  the  black  cube  in  the  centre  like 
the  stump  of  a  unicorn's  horn,  and  thinking  the  while  of 
God's  Unity  and  tbe  Exodus  from  Egypt,  according  to  the 
words  of  Deuteronomy  xi.  18,  "And  these  my  words  .  .  . 
ye  shall  bind  for  a  sign  upon  your  hand,  and  they  shall  be 
as  frontlete  between  your  eyes."  Also  he  began  to  study 
his  "  Portion,"  for  on  the  first  Sabbath  of  his  thirteenth 
year  he  would  be  summoned,  as  a  man,  to  the  recitation  of 
the  Sacred  Scroll,  only  instead  of  listening,  he  would  have 
to  intone  a  section  from  the  parchment  manuscript,  bare 
of  vowels  and  musical  signs.  The  boy  was  shy,  and  the 
thought  of  appearing  brazenly  on  the  platform  before  the 
whole  congregation  was  terrifying.  Besides,  he  might 
make  mistakes  in  the  words  or  the  tunes.  It  was  an  anx- 
ious time,  scarcely  redeemed  by  the  thought  of  new  clothes, 
"Son-of-the-Commaudment"  presents,  and  merry-mak- 
ings. Sometimes  he  woke  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
in  a  cold  sweat,  having  dreamed  that  he  stood  on  the  plat- 
form in  forgetful  dumbness,  every  eye  fixed  upon  him. 
Then  he  would  sing  his  "  Portion"  softly  to  himself  to  re- 
assure himself.  And,  curiously  enough,  it  began,  "And 
it  was  in  the  middle  of  the  night."  In  verity  he  knew  it  as 
glibly  as  the  alphabet,  for  he  was  infinitely  painstaking. 
Never  a  lesson  unlearnt,  nor  a  duty  undone,  and  his  eager 
eyes  looked  forward  to  a  life  of  truth  and  obedience.  And 
as  for  Hebrew  without  vowels,  that  had  long  since  lost  its 
terrors  ;  vowels  were  only  for  children  and  fools,  and  he 
was  an  adept  in  Talmud,  cunning  in  dispute  and  the  dove- 
tailing of  texts  —  quite  a  little    Rabbi,   they  said   in   the 

13 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Ghetto  I  And  when  the  great  moment  actufilly  came,  after 
a  few  timid  twists  and  turns  of  melody  he  found  liis  voice 
soaring  aloft  triumphantly,  and  then  it  became  to  him  a 
subtle  pleasure  to  hold  and  dominate  all  the  listening 
crowd.  Afterwards  his  father  and  mother  received  many 
congratulations  on  the  way  he  had  ''said  iiis  Portion." 

And  now  that  he  was  a  man  other  parts  of  Judaism 
came  into  prominence  in  his  life.  He  became  a  member 
of  the  "Holy  Society,"' which  washed  and  Avatched  the 
bodies  of  the  dead  ere  they  were  put  to  rest  in  the  little 
island  cemetery,  which  was  called  "The  House  of  Life" 
because  there  is  no  death  in  the  universe,  for,  as  he  sang 
triumphantly  on  Friday  evenings,  "God  Avill  make  the 
dead  alive  in  the  abundance  of  His  kindness."  And  now, 
too,  he  could  take  a  man's  part  in  the  death  services  of  the 
mourners,  who  sat  for  seven  days  upon  the  ground  and 
said  prayers  for  the  souls  of  the  deceased.  The  boy  won- 
dered what  became  of  these  souls  ;  some,  he  feared,  went 
to  perdition,  for  he  knew  their  owners  had  done  and 
eaten  forbidden  things.  It  was  a  comfort  to  think  that 
even  in  hell  there  is  no  fire  on  the  Sabbath,  and  no  Fire- 
woman.  When  the  Messiah  came,  perhaps  they  would  all 
be  forgiven.  Did  not  the  Talmud  say  that  all  Israel — with 
the  good  men  of  all  nations — would  have  a  part  in  the 
world  to  come  ? 

Ill 

There  were  many  fasts  in  the  Ghetto  calendar,  most  of 
them  twelve  hours  long,  but  some  twenty-four.  Not  a 
morsel  of  food  nor  a  drop  of  water  must  jiass  the  lips  from 
the  sunset  of  one  day  to  nightfall  on  the  next.  The  child 
bad  only  been  allowed  to  keep  a  few  fasts,  aiul  these  only 
partially,  but  now  it  was   for   his  own    soul  to  settle  how 

14 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

long  and  how  often  it  would  afflict  itself,  and  it  deter- 
mined to  do  so  at  every  opportunity.  And  the  great 
opportunity  came  soon.  Not  the  Black  Fast  Avhen  the 
congregation  sat  shoeless  on  the  floor  of  the  synagogue, 
weeping  and  wailing  for  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  but 
the  great  White  Fast,  the  terrible  Day  of  Atonement  com- 
manded in  the  Bible.  It  was  preceded  by  a  long  month  of 
solemn  prayer,  ushering  in  the  New  Year.  The  New  Year 
itself  was  the  most  sacred  of  Jihe  Festivals,  provided  Avith 
prayers  half  a  day  long,  and  made  terrible  by  peals  on 
the  ram's  horn.  There  were  three  kinds  of  calls  on  this 
primitive  trumpet  —  plain,  trembling,  wailing;  and  they 
were  all  sounded  in  curious  mystic  combinations,  interpo- 
lated Avith  passionate  bursts  of  prayer.  The  sinner  was 
warned  to  repent,  for  the  New  Year  marked  the  Day  of 
Judgment.  For  nine  days  God  judged  the  souls  of  the 
living,  and  decided  on  their  fate  for  the  coming  year — who 
should  live  and  who  should  die,  who  should  grow  rich  and 
who  poor,  who  should  be  in  sickness  and  who  in  health. 
But  at  the  end  of  the  tenth  day,  the  day  of  the  great  White 
Fast,  the  judgment  books  were  closed,  to  open  no  more  for 
the  rest  of  the  year.  Up  till  twilight  there  was  yet  time, 
but  then  what  was  written  was  finally  sealed,  and  he  who 
had  not  truly  repented  had  missed  his  last  chance  of  for- 
giveness. What  wonder  if  early  in  the  ten  penitential  days, 
the  population  of  the  Ghetto  flocked  towards  the  canal 
bridge  to  pray  that  its  sins  might  be  cast  into  the  waters 
and  swept  away  seawards  ! 

'Twas  the  tenth  day,  and  an  awful  sense  of  sacred  doom 
hung  over  the  Ghetto.  In  every  house  a  gigantic  wax 
taper  had  burnt,  white  and  solemn,  all  through  the  night, 
and  fowls  or  coins  had  been  waved  round  the  heads  of  the 
})eople  in  atonement  for  their  iniquities.  The  morning 
dawned  gray  and  cold,  but  with  the  dawn  the  population 

15 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

was  astir,  for  the  services  began  at  six  in  the  morning  and 
lasted  witliont  intermission  till  seven  at  night.  Many  of 
the  male  worshippers  were  clad  in  their  grave-clothes,  and 
the  extreme  zealots  remained  standing  all  day  long,  sway- 
ing to  and  fro  and  beating  their  breasts  at  the  confessions 
of  sin.  For  a  long  time  the  boy  wished  to  stand  too,  but 
the  crowded  synagogue  reeked  with  heavy  odors,  and  at 
last,  towards  mid-day,  faint  and  feeble,  he  had  to  sit.  But 
to  fast  till  nightfall  he  was  resolved.  Hitherto  he  had  al- 
ways broken  his  fast  at  some  point  in  the  services,  going 
home  round  the  corner  to  delicious  bread  and  fish.  AVhen 
he  was  seven  or  eight  this  breakfast  came  at  mid-day,  but 
the  older  he  grew  the  longer  he  fasted,  and  it  became  a 
point  of  honor  to  beat  his  record,  every  successive  year. 
Last  time  he  had  brought  his  breakfast  down  till  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  now  it  would  be  unforgivable  if  he  could 
not  see  the  fast  out  and  go  home,  proud  and  sinless,  to 
drink  wine  with  the  men.  He  turned  so  pale,  as  the  after- 
noon service  dragged  itself  along,  that  his  father  begged 
him  again  and  again  to  go  home  and  eat.  But  the  boy 
was  set  on  a  full  penance.  And  every  now  and  again  he 
forgot  his  headache  and  the  gnawing  at  his  stomach  in  the 
fervor  of  passionate  prayer  and  in  the  fascination  of  the 
ghostly  figures  weeping  and  wailing  in  the  gloomy  syna- 
gogue, and  once  in  imagination  he  saw  the  heavens  open 
overhead  and  God  sitting  on  the  judgment  throne,  invisi- 
ble by  excess  of  dazzling  light,  and  round  him  the  four- 
winged  cherubim  and  the  fiery  wheels  and  the  sacred  creat- 
ures singing  '"Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  the 
whole  earth  is  full  of  His  glory."  Then  a  great  awe  brood- 
ed over  the  synagogue,  and  the  vast  forces  of  the  universe 
seemed  concentred  about  it,  as  if  all  creation  was  awaiting 
in  tense  silence  for  the  terrible  words  of  judgment.  And 
then  ho  felt  some  cool,  sweet  scent  sprinkled  on  his  fore- 

16 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

head,  and,  as  from  the  far  ends  of  the  world,  he  heard  a 
voice  that  sounded  like  his  father's  asking  him  if  he  felt 
better.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  smiled  faintly,  and  said 
nothing  was  the  matter,  but  now  his  father  insisted  that  he 
must  go  home  to  eat.  So,  still  dazed  by  the  glories  he  had 
seen,  he  dragged  himself  dreamily  through  the  press  of 
swaying,  weeping  worshippers,  over  whom  there  still  seemed 
to  brood  some  vast,  solemn  awe,  and  came  outside  into  the 
little  square  and  drew  in  a  delicious  breath  of  fresh  air,  his 
eyes  blinking  at  the  sudden  glare  of  sunlight  and  blue  sky. 
But  the  sense  of  awe  was  still  with  him,  for  the  Ghetto  was 
deserted,  the  shops  were  shut,  and  a  sacred  hush  of  silence 
was  over  the  stones  and  the  houses,  only  accentuated  by 
the  thunder  of  ceaseless  prayer  from  the  synagogues.  He 
walked  towards  the  tall  house  with  the  nine  stories,  then  a 
great  shame  came  over  him.  Surely  he  had  given  in  too 
early.  He  was  already  better,  the  air  had  revived  him. 
No,  he  would  not  break  his  fast ;  he  would  while  away  a 
little  time  by  walking,  and  then  he  would  go  back  to  the 
synagogue.  Yes,  a  brisk  walk  would  complete  his  recov- 
ery. There  was  no  warder  at  the  open  gate  ;  the  keepers 
of  the  Ghetto  had  taken  a  surreptitious  holiday,  aware  that 
on  this  day  of  days  no  watching  was  needed.  The  guar- 
dian barca  lay  moored  to  a  post  unmanned.  All  was  in 
keeping  with  the  boy's  sense  of  solemn  strangeness.  But 
as  he  walked  along  the  Cannaregio  bank,  and  further  and 
further  into  the  unknown  city,  a  curious  uneasiness  and 
surprise  began  to  invade  his  soul.  Everywhere,  despite 
the  vast  awe  overbrooding  the  world,  shops  were  open  and 
people  were  going  about  unconcernedly  in  the  quaint  al- 
leys ;  babies  laughed  in  their  nurses'  arms,  the  gondoliers 
were  poised  as  usual  on  the  stern  of  their  beautiful  black 
boats,  rowing  imperturbably.  The  water  sparkled  and 
danced  in  the  afternoon  sun.     In  the   market-place  the 

B  17 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

tanned  old  women  chattered  briskly  with  their  customers. 
He  wandered  on  and  on  in  growing  wonder  and  perturba- 
tion. Suddenly  liis  trouble  ceased,  a  burst  of  wonderful 
melody  came  to  him  ;  there  was  not  only  a  joyful  tune,  but 
other  tunes  seemed  to  blend  with  it,  melting  his  heart  with 
unimaginable  rapture ;  he  gave  chase  to  the  strange  sounds, 
drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  he  emerged  unexpect- 
edly upon  an  immense  square  bordered  by  colonnades,  un- 
der which  beautifully  dressed  signori  and  signore  sat  drink- 
ing at  little  tables,  and  listening  to  men  in  red  with  great 
black  cockades  in  their  hats  who  were  ranged  on  a  central 
platform,  blowing  large  shining  horns  ;  a  square  so  vast  and 
so  crowded  with  happy  chattering  people  and  fluttering  pig- 
eons that  he  gazed  about  in  blinking  bewilderment.  And 
then,  uplifting  his  eyes,  he  saw  a  sight  that  took  his  breath 
away — a  glorious  building  like  his  dream  of  the  Temple  of 
Zion,  glowing  with  gold  and  rising  in  marvellous  domes 
and  spires,  and  crowned  by  four  bronze  animals,  which  he 
felt  sure  must  be  the  creatures  called  horses  with  which 
Pharaoh  had  pursued  the  Israelites  to  the  Red  Sea.  And 
hard  by  rose  a  gigantic  tower,  like  the  Tower  of  Babel, 
leading  the  eye  up  and  up.  His  breast  filled  with  a  strange 
pleasure  that  was  almost  pain.  The  enchanted  temple  drew 
him  across  the  square  ;  he  saw  a  poor  bare-headed  woman 
going  in,  and  he  followed  her.  Then  a  wonderful  golden 
gloom  fell  upon  him,  and  a  sense  of  arclies  and  pillars  and 
soaring  roofs  and  curved  walls  beautiful  with  many-colored 
pictures ;  and  the  pleasure,  that  was  almost  pain,  swelled 
at  his  heart  till  it  seemed  as  if  it  must  burst  his  breast. 
Then  he  saw  the  poor  bare-headed  woman  kneel  down,  and 
in  a  flash  he  understood  that  she  was  praying — ay,  and  in 
the  men's  quarter — and  that  this  was  no  Temple,  but  one  of 
those  forbidden  places  called  churches,  into  which  the  ab- 
horred deserters  went  who  were  spoken  of  on  that  marble 

18 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    GHETTO 

slab  in  the  Ghetto.  And,  while  he  was  wrestling  with  the 
confusion  of  his  thoughts,  a  splendid  glittering  being,  with 
a  cocked  hat  and  a  sword,  marched  terrifyingly  towards 
him,  and  sternly  bade  him  take  off  his  hat.  He  ran  out  of 
the  wonderful  building  in  a  great  fright.  Jostling  against 
the  innumerable  promenaders  in  the  square,  and  not  paus- 
ing till  the  merry  music  of  the  big  shining  horns  had  died 
away  behind  him.  And  even  then  he  walked  quickly,  as  if 
pursued  by  the  strange  vast  world  into  which  he  had  pene- 
trated for  the  first  time.  And  suddenly  he  found  himself 
in  a  blind  alley,  and  knew  that  he  could  not  find  his  way 
back  to  the  Ghetto.  He  was  about  to  ask  of  a  woman  who 
looked  kind,  when  he  remembered,  with  a  chill  down  his 
spine,  that  he  was  not  wearing  a  yellow  0,  as  a  man  should, 
and  that,  as  he  was  now  a  "Son  of  the  Commandment," 
the  Venetians  would  consider  him  a  man.  For  one  for- 
lorn moment  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  Avould  never  find 
himself  back  in  the  Ghetto  again  ;  but  at  last  he  bethought 
himself  of  asking  for  the  Cannaregio,  and  so  gradually, 
cold  at  heart  and  trembling,  he  reached  the  familiar  iron 
gate  and  slipped  in.  All  was  as  before  in  the  Ghetto.  The 
same  sacred  hush  in  court  and  square,  accentuated  by  the 
rumble  of  prayer  from  the  synagogues,  the  gathering  dusk 
lending  a  touch  of  added  solemnity. 

"  Well,  have  you  eaten  ?"  asked  the  father.  The  boy 
nodded  "  Yes."  A  faint  flush  of  exultation  leapt  into  his 
pale  cheek.  He  would  see  the  fast  out  after  all.  The  men 
were  beating  their  breasts  at  the  confession  of  sin.  "For 
tlie  sin  we  have  committed  by  lying,"  chimed  in  the  boy. 
But  although  in  his  attention  to  the  wailful  melody  of  the 
words  he  scarcely  noticed  the  meaning,  something  of  the 
old  passion  and  fervor  had  gone  out  of  his  voice.  Twi- 
light fell  ;  the  shadows  deepened,  the  white  figures,  wail- 
ing and  weeping  in  their  grave-clothes,  grew  mystic ;    the 

19 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

time  for  sealing  the  Books  of  Judgment  drew  nigh.  The 
figures  threw  themselves  forward  full  length,  their  fore- 
heads to  the  floor,  proclaiming  passionately  again  and 
again,  "  The  Lord  He  is  God  i  the  Lord  He  is  God  \"  It 
was  the  hour  in  which  the  boy's  sense  of  overbrooding  awe 
had  always  been  tensest.  But  he  could  not  shake  off  the 
thought  of  the  gay  piazza  and  the  wonderful  church  where 
other  people  prayed  other  prayers.  For  something  larger 
had  come  into  his  life,  a  sense  of  a  vaster  universe  without, 
and  its  spaciousness  and  strangeness  filled  his  soul  with  a 
nameless  trouble  and  a  vague  unrest.  He  was  no  longer  a 
child  of  the  Ghetto. 


JOSEPH   THE   DEEAMER 


"We  must  not  wait  longer,  Eachel,"  said  Manasseh 
in  low,  grave,  but  unfaltering  accents.  "Midnight  ap- 
proaches." 

Rachel  checked  her  sobs  and  assumed  an  attitude  of 
reverence  as  her  husband  began  to  intone  the  benedictions, 
but  her  heart  felt  no  religious  Joy  in  the  remembrance  of 
how  the  God  of  her  fathers  had  saved  them  and  their 
Temple  from  Hellenic  pollution.  It  was  torn  by  anxiety 
as  to  the  fate  of  her  boy,  her  scholar  son,  unaccountably 
absent  for  the  first  time  from  the  household  ceremonies  of 
the  Feast  of  Dedication.  What  was  ho  doing — outside  the 
Ghetto  gates  —  in  that  great,  dark,  narrow -meshed  city  of 
Rome,  defying  the  Papal  law,  and  of  all  nights  in  the  year 
on  that  sinister  night  when,  by  a  coincidence  of  chronology, 
the  Christian  persecutor  celebrated  the  birth  of  his  Saviour? 
Through  misty  eyes  she  saw  her  husband's  face,  stern  and 
rugged,  yet  made  venerable  by  the  flowing  >vhite  of  his 
locks  and  beard,  as  with  the  supernumerary  taper  he  pre- 
pared to  light  the  wax  candles  in  the  nine-branched  candle- 
stick of  silver.  He  wore  a  long,  hooded  mantle  reaching 
to  the  feet,  and  showing  where  it  fell  back  in  front  a 
brown  gaberdine  clasped  by  a  girdle.  These  sombre - 
colored  robes  were  second-hand,  as  the  austere  simplicity 

21 


DllEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

of  the  Pragmatic  required.  The  Jewish  Council  of  Sixty 
did  not  permit  its  subjects  to  ruffle  it  like  the  Romans  of 
those  days  of  purple  pageantry.  The  young  bloods,  for- 
bidden by  Christendom  to  style  themselves  signori,  Avere 
forbidden  by  Judea  to  vie  with  signori  in  luxury. 

"^Blessed  art  Tiiou,  0  Lord,  our  God/'  chanted  the  old 
man.  "King  of  the  Universe,  who  hast  sanctified  us  with 
Tliy  commandments,  and  commanded  us  to  kindle  the 
light  of  Clianukah." 

It  was  with  a  quavering  voice  that  Rachel  joined  in  the 
ancient  hymn  that  wound  up  the  rite.  "  0  Fortress, 
Rock  of  my  salvation,"  the  old  woman  sang.  "  Unto  Thee 
it  is  becoming  to  give  praise  ;  let  my  house  of  prayer  be 
restored,  and  I  will  there  offer  Thee  thanksgivings  ;  when 
Thou  shalt  have  prepared  a  slaughter  of  the  blaspheming 
foe,  I  will  complete  with  song  and  psalm  the  dedication  of 
the  altar." 

But  her  imagination  was  roving  in  the  dim  oil-lit  streets 
of  the  tenebrous  city,  striving  for  the  clairvoyance  of  love. 
Arrest  by  the  shirri  was  certain  ;  other  dangers  threatened. 
Brawls  and  bravos  abounded.  True,  this  city  of  Rome 
was  safer  than  many  another  for  its  Jews,  who,  by  a  miracle, 
more  undeniable  than  that  which  they  were  now  celebrat- 
ing, had  from  the  birth  of  Christ  dwelt  in  the  very  heart 
of  Christendom,  the  Eternal  People  in  the  Eternal  City. 
The  Ghetto  had  witnessed  no  such  sights  as  Barcelona  or 
Frankfort  or  Prague.  The  bloody  orgies  of  the  Crusaders 
had  raged  far  away  from  the  Capital  of  the  Cross.  In 
England,  in  B^rance,  in  Germany,  the  Jew,  that  scapegoat 
of  the  nations,  had  poisoned  the  wells  and  brought  on  tlie 
Black  Death,  had  pierced  the  host,  killed  children  for  their 
blood,  blasphemed  the  saints,  and  done  all  that  the  im- 
agination of  defalcating  debtors  could  suggest.  But  the 
Ronuin   Jews  were   merely  pestilent   heretics.     Perhaps  it 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

was  the  comparative  poverty  of  the  Ghetto  that  made  its 
tragedy  one  of  steady  degradation  rather  than  of  fitful 
massacre.  Nevertheless  bloodshed  was  not  unknown,  and 
the  song  died  on  Rachel's  lips,  though  the  sterner  Ma- 
nasseh  still  chanted  on. 

"The  Grecians  were  gathered  against  me  in  the  days  of 
the  Hasmoneans  :  they  broke  down  the  walls  of  my  towers 
and  defiled  all  the  oils  ;  but  from  one  of  the  last  remaining 
flasks  a  miracle  was  wrought  for  Thy  lily,  Israel ;  and  the 
men  of  understanding  appointed  these  eight  days  for  songs 
and  praises." 

They  were  well-to-do  people,  and  RacheFs  dress  be- 
tokened the  limit  of  the  luxury  allowed  by  the  Pragmatic 
— a  second-hand  silk  dress  with  a  pin  at  the  throat  set  with 
only  a  single  pearl,  a  bracelet  on  one  arm,  a  ring  without 
a  bezel  on  one  finger,  a  single-stringed  necklace  round  her 
neck,  her  hair  done  in  a  cheap  net. 

She  looked  at  the  nine-branched  candlestick,  and  a  mys- 
tical sadness  filled  her.  Would  she  had  nine  scions  of 
her  house  like  Miriam's  mother,  a  true  mother  in  Israel ; 
but,  lo  !  she  had  only  one  candle — one  little  candle.  A  i)uff 
and  it  was  gone,  and  life  would  be  dark. 

That  Joseph  was  not  in  the  Ghetto  was  certain.  He 
would  never  have  caused  her  such  anxiety  wilfully,  and, 
indeed,  she  and  her  husband  and  Miriam  had  already  run 
to  all  the  likely  places  in  the  quarter,  even  to  those  marshy 
alleys  where  every  overflow  of  the  Tiber  left  deposits  of 
malarious  mud,  where  families  harbored,  ten  in  a  house, 
where  stunted  men  and  wrinkled  women  slouched  through 
the  streets,  and  a  sickly  spawn  of  half-naked  babies  swarm- 
ed under  the  feet.  They  had  had  trouble  enough,  but 
never  such  a  trouble  as  this.  Manasseh  and  Rachel,  with 
this  queer  offspring  of  theirs,  this  Joseph  the  Dreamer, 
as  he  hafl  been  nicknamed,  tliis  handsome,  reckless  black- 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

eyed  son  of  theirs,  with  his  fine  oval  face,  his  delicate  olive 
features  ;  this  young  man,  who  could  not  settle  down  to 
the  restricted  forms  of  commerce  possible  in  the  Ghetto, 
who  was  to  be  Rabbi  of  the  community  one  day,  albeit  his 
brilliance  was  occasionally  dazzling  to  the  sober  tutors 
upon  whom  he  flashed  his  sudden  thought,  which  stirred 
up  that  which  had  better  been  left  asleep.  Why  was  he 
not  as  other  sons,  why  did  he  pace  the  street  with  unob- 
servant eyes,  why  did  he  weep  over  the  profane  Hebrew 
of  the  Spanish  love-singers  as  if  their  songs  were  Selichoth 
or  Penitential  Verses  ?  Why  did  he  not  marry  Miriam, 
as  one  could  see  the.  girl  wished  ?  Why  did  he  set  at 
naught  the  custom  of  the  Ghetto,  in  silently  refraining 
from  so  obvious  a  match  between  the  children  of  two  old 
friends,  equally  well-to-do,  and  both  possessing  the  Jus 
Gazzaga  or  leasehold  of  the  houses  in  wiiich  they  lived ; 
tall,  quaint  houses,  separated  only  by  an  ancient  building 
with  a  carved  porch,  and  standing  at  the  end  of  the  great 
Via  Rua  where  it  adjoined  the  narrow  little  street,  Delle 
Azzimelle,  in  which  the  Passover  cakes  were  made.  Mir- 
iam's family,  being  large,  had  their  house  to  themselves, 
but  a  good  deal  of  Manasseh's  was  let  out ;  for  room  was 
more  and  more  precious  in  the  Ghetto,  which  was  a  fixed 
space  for  an  ever-expanding  population. 


II 

They  went  to  bed.  Manasseh  insisted  upon  that.  They 
could  not  possibly  expect  Joseph  till  the  morning.  Accus- 
tomed as  Rachel  was  to  lean  upon  her  husband's  strength, 
at  this  moment  his  strength  seemed  harshness.  The  night 
was  long.  A  hundred  horrid  visions  passed  before  her 
sleepless  eyes.     The  sun  rose  upon  the  Ghetto,  striving  to 

24 


JOSEPH    THE    DEEAMER 

slip  its  rays  between  the  high,  close -pressed  tops  of  op- 
posite houses.  The  five  Ghetto  gates  were  thrown  open, 
but  Joseph  did  not  come  through  any.  The  Jewish  ped- 
lars issued,  adjusting  their  yellow  hats,  and  pushing  be- 
fore them  little  barrows  laden  with  special  Christmas  wares. 
"  Heh,  heh,"  they  shouted  as  they  passed  through  the 
streets  of  Rome.  Some  sold  simples  and  philtres,  and 
amulets  in  the  shape  of  miniature  mandores  or  four-string- 
ed lutes  to  preserve  children  from  maladies.  Manasseh, 
his  rugged  countenance  grown  harder,  went  to  his  place 
of  business.  He  had  forbidden  any  inquiries  to  be  made 
outside  the  pale  till  later  in  the  day  ;  it  would  be  but  to 
betray  to  the  enemy  Joseph's  breach  of  the  law.  In  the 
meantime,  perhaps,  the  wanderer  would  return.  Manas- 
seh's  establishment  was  in  the  Piazza  Giudea.  Numerous 
shops  encumbered  the  approaches,  mainly  devoted  to  the 
sale  of  cast-off  raiment,  the  traffic  in  new  things  being  pro- 
hibited to  Jews  by  Papal  Bull,  but  anything  second-hand 
might  be  had  here  from  the  rough  costume  of  a  shepherd 
of  Abruzzo  to  the  faded  fripperies  of  a  gentleman  of  the 
Court.  In  the  centre  a  new  fountain  with  two  dragons 
supplied  the  Ghetto  with  water  from  the  Aqueduct  of  Paul 
the  Fifth  in  lieu  of  the  loathly  Tiber  water,  and  bore  a 
grateful  Latin  inscription.  About  the  edges  of  the  square 
a  few  buildings  rose  in  dilapidated  splendor  to  break  the 
monotony  of  the  Ghetto  barracks  ;  the  ancient  palace  of 
the  Boccapaduli,  and  a  mansion  with  a  high  tower  and 
three  abandoned  churches.  A  monumental  but  forbidding 
gate,  closed  at  sundown,  gave  access  to  a  second  Piazza 
Giudea,  where  Christians  congregated  to  bargain  with  Jews 
— it  was  almost  a  suburb  of  the  Ghetto.  Manasseh  had 
not  far  to  go,  for  his  end  of  the  Via  Rua  debouched  on  the 
Piazza  Giudea  ;  the  other  end,  after  running  parallel  to 
the  Via  Pescheria  and  the  river,  bent  suddenly  near  the 

25 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Gate  of  Octavius,  and  finished  on  the  bridge  Quattro  Capi. 
Sucli  was  the  Ghetto  in  the  sixteen  liundreds. 

Soon  after  Manasseh  had  left  the  house,  Miriam  came  in 
with  anxious  face  to  inquire  if  Joseph  had  returned.  It 
was  a  beautiful  Oriental  face,  in  whose  eyes  brooded  the 
light  of  love  and  pity,  a  face  of  the  type  which  painters 
have  given  to  the  Madonna  when  they  have  remembered  that 
the  Holy  Mother  was  a  Jewess.  She  was  clad  in  a  simple 
woollen  gown,  without  lace  or  broidery,  her  only  ornament 
a  silver  bracelet.  Rachel  wept  to  tell  her  the  lack  of  news, 
but  Miriam  did  not  join  in  her  tears.  She  besought  her  to 
be  of  good  courage. 

And  very  soon  indeed  Josepli  appeared,  with  an  expres- 
sion at  once  haggard  and  ecstatic,  his  black  hair  and  beard 
unkempt,  his  eyes  glittering  strangely  in  his  flushed  olive 
face,  a  curious  poetic  figure  in  his  reddish-brown  mantle 
and  dark  yellow  cap. 

"Pax  vohiscum,"  he  cried,  in  shrill,  jubilant  accents. 

"Joseph,  what  drunken  folly  is  this?"  faltered  Ra- 
chel. 

"  Gloi'ia  in  altissimis  Deo  and  peace  on  earth  to  all  men 
of  goodwill,"  persisted  Joseph.  ''It  is  Christmas  morning, 
mother."  And  he  began  to  troll  out  the  stave  of  a  carol, 
"  Simeon,  that  good  saint  of  old — " 

Rachel's  hand  was  clapped  rudely  over  her  son's  mouth. 
"  Blasphemer  !"  she  cried,  an  ashen  gray  overspreading  her 
face. 

Joseph  gently  removed  her  hand.  "  It  is  thou  wlio  blas- 
phemest,  mother,"  he  cried.  "Rejoice,  rejoice,  this  day 
the  dear  Lord  Christ  was  born — lie  who  was  to  die  for  the 
sins  of  the  world." 

Rachel  burst  into  fresh  tears.  "  Our  boy  is  mad — our 
boy  is  mad.  What  have  they  done  to  him  ?"  All  her  antici- 
pations of  horror  were  outpassed  by  this. 

26 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

Pain  shadowed  the  sweet  silence  of  Miriam's  face  as  she 
stood  in  the  recess  of  the  window. 

*'  Mad  !  Ob,  my  mother,  I  am  as  one  awakened.  Rejoice, 
rejoice  with  me.  Let  ns  sink  ourselves  in  the  universal  joy, 
let  us  be  at  one  with  the  human  race." 

Rachel  smiled  tentatively  through  her  tears.  "Enough 
of  this  foolery,"  she  said  pleadingly.  "It  is  the  feast  of 
Dedication,  not  of  Lots.  There  ueeds  no  masquerading 
to-day." 

"Joseph,  what  ails  thee?"  interposed  the  sweet  voice  of 
Miriam.    "  What  hast  thou  done?    Where  hast  thou  been?" 

"Art  thou  here,  Miriam  ?"  Plis  eyes  became  conscious 
of  her  for  the  first  time.  "  Would  thou  hadst  been  there 
with  me  !" 

"'  Where  ?" 

"  At  St.  Peter's.     Oh,  the  heavenly  music  !" 

"At  St.  Peter's!"  repeated  Rachel  hoarsely.  "Thou, 
my  son  Joseph,  the  student  of  God's  Law,  hast  defiled  thy- 
self thus  ?" 

"  Nay,  it  is  no  defilement,"  interposed  Miriam  soothingly. 
"  Hast  thou  not  told  us  how  our  fathers  went  to  tiie  Sistine 
Chapel  on  Sabbath  afternoons  ?" 

"Ay,  but  that  was  when  Michel  Angelo  Buonarotti  was 
painting  his  frescoes  of  the  deliverances  of  Israel.  And 
they  went  likewise  to  see  the  figure  of  our  Lawgiver  in  the 
Pope's  mausoleum.  And  I  have  even  heard  of  Jews  who 
have  stolen  into  St.  Peter's  itself  to  gaze  on  that  twisted 
pillar  from  Solomon's  temple,  whicli,  these  infidels  hold  for 
our  sins.  But  it  is  the  midnight  mass  that  this  Epicurean 
has  been  to  hear." 

"Even  so,"  said  Joseph  in  dreamy  undertones,  "the 
midnight  mass — incense  and  lights  and  the  figures  of  saints, 
and  wonderful  painted  windows,  and  a  great  multitude  of 
weeping  worshippers  and  music  that  wept  with  them,  now 

27 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

shrill  like  the  passionate  cry  of  martyrs,  now  breathing  the 
peace  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

"  How  clidst  thou  dare  show  thyself  in  the  cathedral  ?" 
whimpered  Rachel. 

*'  Who  should  dream  of  a  Jew  in  the  immense  throng  ? 
Outside  it  was  dark,  Avithin  it  was  dim.  I  hid  my  face  and 
wept.  They  looked  at  the  cardinals  in  tlieir  splendid  robes, 
at  the  Pope,  at  the  altar.     Who  had  eyes  for  me  ?" 

"  But  thy  yellow  cap,  Josejih  I" 

"One  wears  not  the  cap  in  church,  mother.'' 

"Thou  didst  blasphemously  bare  thy  head,  and  in  wor- 
ship r 

"I  did  not  mean  to  worship,  mother  mine.  A  great 
curiosity  drew  me — I  desired  to  see  with  my  own  eyes,  and 
hear  with  mine  own  ears,  this  adoration  of  the  Christ,  at 
which  my  teachers  scoff.  But  I  was  caught  up  in  a  mighty 
wave  of  organ-music  that  surged  from  this  low  earth 
heavenwards  to  break  against  the  footstool  of  God  in  the 
crystal  firmament.  And  suddenly  I  knew  what  my  soul 
was  pining  for.  I  knew  the  meaning  of  that  restless  crav- 
ing that  has  always  devoured  me,  though  I  spake  not  there- 
of, those  strange  hauntings,  those  dim  perceptions — in  a 
flash  I  understood  the  secret  of  peace." 

"And  that  is  —  Joseph?"  asked  Miriam  gently,  for 
Rachel  drew  such  laboring  breath  she  could  not  speak. 

"Sacrifice,"  said  Josei)h  softly,  with  rapt  gaze.  "To 
suffer,  to  give  one's  self  freely  to  the  world  ;  to  die  to  my- 
self in  delicious  pain,  like  the  last  tremulous  notes  of  the 
sweet  boy-voice  that  had  soared  to  God  in  the  Magnificat. 
Oh,  Miriam,  if  I  could  lead  our  brethren  out  of  the  Ghetto, 
if  I  could  die  to  bring  them  happiness,  to  make  them  free 
sons  of  Rome." 

"A  goodly  wish,  my  son,  but  to  be  fulfilled  by  God 
alone." 

28 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMEK 

"  Even  so.  Let  us  pray  for  faith.  When  we  are  Chris- 
tians the  gates  of  the  Ghetto  will  fall." 

"Christians  !"  echoed  Rachel  and  Miriam  in  simultane- 
ous horror. 

"  Ay,  Christians,"  said  Joseph  unflinchingly. 

Rachel  ran  to  the  door  and  closed  it  more  tightly.  Her 
limbs  shook.  ''Hush!"  she  breathed.  "Let  thy  mad- 
ness go  no  further.  God  of  Abraham,  suppose  some  one 
should  overhear  thee  and  carry  thy  talk  to  thy  father." 
She  began  to  wring  her  hands. 

"Joseph,  bethink  thyself,"  pleaded  Miriam,  stricken  to 
the  heart.  "  I  am  no  scholar,  I  am  only  a  woman.  But 
thou — thou  with  thy  learning — surely  thou  hast  not  been 
befooled  by  these  jugglers  with  the  sacred  text  ?  Sure- 
ly thou  art  able  to  answer  their  Avord  -  twistings  of  our 
prophets  ?" 

"Ah,  Miriam,"  replied  Joseph  tenderly.  "Art  thou, 
too,  like  our  brethren  ?  They  do  not  understand.  It  is  a 
question  of  the  heart,  not  of  texts.  What  is  it  I  feel  is  the 
highest,  divinest  in  me  ?  Sacrifice  !  AVherefore  He  who 
was  all  sacrifice,  all  martyrdom,  must  be  divine." 

"  Bandy  not  words  with  him,  Miriam,"  cried  his  mother. 
"Oh,  thou  infidel,  whom  I  have  begotten  for  my  sins. 
Why  doth  not  Heaven's  fire  blast  thee  as  thou  standest 
there  ?" 

"Thou  talkest  of  martyrdom,  Joseph,"  cried  Miriam, 
disregarding  her.  "It  is  we  Jews  who  are  martyrs,  not 
the  Christians.  We  are  penned  here  like  cattle.  We  are 
marked  with  shameful  badges.  Our  Talmud  is  burnt. 
Our  possessions  are  taxed  away  from  us.  We  are  barred 
from  every  reputable  calling.  AVe  may  not  even  bury  our 
dead  with  honor  or  carve  an  epitaph  over  their  graves." 
The  passion  in  her  face  matched  his.  Her  sweetness  Avas 
exchanged  for  fire.     She  had  the  air  of  a  Judith  or  a  Jael. 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''  It  is  our  own  cowardice  that  invites  the  spittle,  Miriam. 
Where  is  the  spirit  of  the  Maccab^eans  whom  we  hymn  on 
this  feast  of  Chanukah  ?  The  Pope  issues  Bulls,  and  we 
submit  —  outwardly.  Our  resistance  is  silent,  sinuous. 
He  ordains  yellow  hats  ;  we  wear  yellow  hats,  but  grad- 
ually the  yellow  darkens  ;  it  becomes  orange,  then  ochre, 
till  at  last  we  go  capped  in  red  like  so  many  cardinals, 
provoking  the  edict  afresh.  We  are  restricted  to  one 
synagogue.  AVe  have  five  for  our  different  country-folk, 
but  we  build  jthem  under  one  roof  and  call  four  of  them 
schools." 

"Hush,  thou  Jew-hater,"  cried  his  mother.  *' Say  not 
such  things  aloud.  My  God  !  my  God  !  how  have  I 
sinned  before  Thee  ?" 

"  What  wouldst  thou  have,  Joseph  ?"  said  Miriam. 
"  One  cannot  argue  with  wolves.  AYe  are  so  few — we  must 
meet  them  by  cunning." 

"Ah,  but  we  set  up  to  be  God's  witnesses,  Miriam.  Our 
creed  is  naught  but  jorayer -mumbling  and  pious  mum- 
meries. The  Christian  Apostles  went  through  the  world 
testifying.  Better  a  brief  heroism  than  this  long  igno- 
miny." He  burst  into  sudden  tears  and  sank  into  a  chair 
overwrought. 

Instantly  his  mother  was  at  his  side,  bending  down,  her 
wet  face  to  his. 

"  Thank  Heaven  !  thank  Heaven  !"  she  sobbed.  ''  The 
madness  is  over." 

He  did  not  answer  her.  He  had  no  strength  to  argue 
more.  There  was  a  long,  strained  silence.  Presently  the 
mother  asked — 

"And  where  didst  thou  find  shelter  for  the  night  ?" 

"At  the  palace  of  Annibale  de'  Franchi." 

Miriam  started.  "  The  father  of  the  beautiful  Helena 
de'  Frauchi  ?"  she  asked. 

30 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

**Tlie  same,"  said  Joseph  flushing. 

"  And  how  earnest  thou  to  find  protection  there,  in  so 
noble  a  house,  under  the  roof  of  a  familiar  of  the  Pope  ?" 

"  Did  I  not  tell  thee,  mother,  how  I  did  some  slight 
service  to  his  daughter  at  the  last  Carnival,  when,  advent- 
uring herself  masked  among  the  crowd  in  the  Corso,  she 
was  nigh  trampled  upon  by  the  buffaloes  stampeding  from 
the  race-course  ?" 

"  Nay,  I  remember  naught  thereof,"  said  Rachel,  shak- 
ing her  head.  "But  thou  mindest  me  how  these  Chris- 
tians make  us  race  like  the  beasts." 

He  ignored  the  implied  rej)roach. 

"  Signor  de'  Franchi  would  have  done  much  for  me,"  he 
went  on.  "  But  I  only  begged  the  run  of  his  great  library. 
Thou  knowest  how  hard  it  is  for  me  that  the  Christians 
deny  us  books.  And  there  many  a  day  have  I  sat  readfng 
till  the  vesper  bell  warned  me  that  I  must  hasten  back  to 
the  Ghetto." 

*' Ah  !  'twas  but  to  pervert  thee." 

"Nay,  mother,  we  talked  not  of  religion." 

"  And  last  night  thou  wast  too  absorbed  in  thy  read- 
ing ?"  put  in  Miriam. 

"  Tliat  is  how  it  came  to  jiass,  Miriam." 

"  But  why  did  not  Helena  warn  thee  ?" 

This  time  it  was  Joseph  that  started.  But  he  replied 
simply — 

"We  were  reading  in  Tasso.  She  hath  rare  parts. 
Sometimes  she  renders  Plato  and  Sophocles  to  me." 

"  And  thou,  our  future  Rabbi,  didst  listen  ?"  cried 
Rachel. 

"  There  is  no  word  of  Christianity  in  these,  mother,  nor 
do  they  satisfy  the  soul.  Wisely  sang  Jehudah  Halevi, 
*Go  not  near  the  Grecian  wisdom.'  " 

"  Didst  thou  sit  near  her  at  the  mass  ?"  inquired  Miriam. 

31 


UEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

He  turned  his  candid  gaze  towards  her. 

"  She  did  not  go,"  he  said. 

Miriam  made  a  sudden  movement  to  the  door. 

"Now  that  thou  art  safe,  Josej^h,  I  have  naught  further 
to  do  here.     God  keep  thee." 

Her  bosom  heaved.     She  hurried  out. 

"Poor  Miriam!"  sighed  Kachel.  "She  is  a  loviug, 
trustworthy  maiden.  Slie  will  not  breathe  a  whisper  of 
thy  blasphemies." 

Joseph  sprang  from  his  feet  as  if  ga-lvanized. 

"Not  breathe  a  Avhisper  !  But,  mother,  I  shall  shout 
them  from  the  housetops." 

"  Hush  !  liush  !"  breathed  his  mother  in  a  fi-enzy  of 
alarm.     "  The  neighbors  will  hear  thee." 

"  It  is  what  I  desire." 

"  Thy  father  may  come  in  at  any  moment  to  know  if 
thou  art  safe." 

"I  will  go  allay  his  anxiety." 

"Nay."  She  caught  him  by  the  mantle.  "I  will  not 
let  thee  go.  Swear  to  me  thou  wilt  spare  him  thy  blas- 
phemies, or  he  may  strike  thee  dead  at  his  feet." 

"  Wouldst  have  me  lie  to  him  ?  He  must  know  what  I 
have  told  thee." 

"No,  no;  tell  him  thou  wast  shut  out,  that  thou  didst 
remain  in  hiding." 

"'  Truth  alone  is  great,  mother.  I  go  to  bring  him  the 
Truth."  He  tore  his  garment  from  her  grasp  and  rushed 
without. 

She  sat  on  the  floor  and  rocked  to  and  fro  in  an  agony 
of  apprehension.  The  leaden  hours  crept  along.  No  one 
came,  neither  son  nor  husband.  Terrible  images  of  what 
was  passing  between  them  tortured  her.  Towards  mid-day 
she  rose  and  began  mechanically  preparing  her  husband's 
meal.     At  the  precise  minute  of  year-long  habit  he  came. 

32 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

To  her  anxious  eye  his  stern  face  seemed  more  pallid  than 
usual,  but  it  revealed  nothing.  He  washed  his  hands  in 
ritual  silence,  made  the  blessing,  and  drew  chair  to  table. 
A  hundred  times  the  question  hovered  about  Rachel's 
lips,  but  it  was  not  till  near  the  end  of  the  meal  that  she 
ventured  to  say,  "  Our  son  is  back.  Hast  thou  not  seen 
him  ?" 

''Son?     What  son?     We  have  no  son."     He  finished 
his  meal. 

Ill 

The  scholarly  apostle,  thus  disowned  by  his  kith  and 
kin,  was  eagerly  welcomed  by  Holy  Church,  the  more 
warmly  that  he  had  come  of  his  own  inward  grace  and  re- 
fused the  tribute  of  annual  crowns  with  which  the  Popes 
often  rewarded  true  religion — at  the  expense  of  the  Ghetto, 
which  had  to  pay  these  incomes  to  its  recreants.  It  was 
the  fashion  to  baptize  converted  Jews  in  batches — for  the 
greater  glory — procuring  them  from  without  when  home- 
made catechumens  were  scarce,  sometimes  serving  them 
up  with  a  proselyte  Turk.  But  in  view  of  the  importance 
of  the  accession,  and  likewise  of  the  closeness  of  Epiphany, 
it  was  resolved  to  give  Joseph  ben  Manasseh  the  honor  of 
a  solitary  baptism.  The  intervening  days  he  passed  in  a 
monastery,  studying  his  new  faith,  unable  to  communicate 
with  his  parents  or  his  fellow  Jews,  even  had  he  or  they 
wished.  A  cardinal's  edict  forbade  him  to  return  to  the 
Ghetto,  to  eat,  drink,  sleep,  or  speak  with  his  race  during 
the  period  of  probation  ;  the  whip,  the  cord,  awaited  its 
violation.  By  day  Rachel  and  Miriam  walked  in  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  monastery,  hoping  to  catch  sight  of  him ; 
nearer  than  ninety  cubits  they  durst  not  approach  under 
pain  of  bastinado  and  exile.  A  word  to  him,  a  message 
c  33 


DEEAMERS    OF    TEE    GHETTO 

that  miglit  have  softened  him,  a  plea  that  might  have 
turned  him  back — and  tlie  offender  was  condemned  to  the 
galleys  for  life. 

Epiphany  arrived.  A  great  concourse  filled  the  Basilica 
di  Latran.  The  Pope  himself  was  present,  and  amidst 
scarlet  pomp  and  swelling  music,  Joseph,  thrilled  to  the 
depths  of  his  being,  received  the  sacraments.  Annibale  de' 
Franchi,  whose  proud  surname  was  lienceforth  to  be 
Joseph's,  stood  sponsor.  The  presiding  cardinal  in  his 
solemn  sermon  congratulated  the  congregants  on  the 
miracle  which  had  taken  place  under  their  very  eyes,  and 
then,  attired  in  white  satin,  the  neophyte  was  slowly  driven 
through  the  streets  of  Eome  that  all  might  witness  how  a 
soul  had  been  saved  for  the  true  faith.  And  in  the  ecstasy 
of  this  union  with  the  human  brotherhood  and  the  divine 
fatherhood,  and  with  Christ,  its  symbol,  Giuseppe  de' 
Franchi  saw  not  the  dark,  haggard  faces  of  his  brethren  in 
the  crowd,  the  hate  that  smouldered  in  their  dusky  eyes  as 
the  festal  procession  passed  by.  Nor  while  he  knelt  be- 
fore crucifix  and  image  that  night,  did  he  dream  of  that 
other  ceremonial  in  the  Synagogue  of  the  Piazza  of  the 
Temple,  half-way  from  the  river ;  a  scene  more  impressive 
in  its  sombreness  than  all  the  splendor  of  the  church  pageant. 

The  synagogue  was  a  hidden  building,  indistinguishable 
externally  from  the  neighboring  houses ;  within,  gold  and 
silver  glistened  in  the  pomegranates  and  bells  of  the 
Scrolls  of  the  Law  or  in  the  broidery  of  tlie  curtain  that 
covered  the  Ark  ;  the  glass  of  one  of  the  Avindows,  blazing 
with  a  dozen  colors  for  the  Twelve  Tribes,  represented  the 
Urim  and  the  Thummim.  In  the  courtyard  stood  a  model 
of  the  ancient  Temple  of  Jerusalem,  furnished  with  marvel- 
lous detail,  memorial  of  lost  glories. 

The  Council  of  Sixty  had  spoken.  Joseph  ben  Manasseh 
was  to  suffer  the  last   extremity  of  the  Jewish  law.     All 

34 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMEE 

Israel  was  called  together  to  the  Temple.  An  awful  air  of 
dread  hung  over  the  assemblage  ;  in  a  silence  as  of  the 
grave  each  man  uj)held  a  black  torch  that  flared  weirdly  in 
the  shadows  of  the  synagogue.  A  ram's  horn  sounded 
shrill  and  terrible,  and  to  its  elemental  music  the  anath- 
ema was  launched,  the  appalling  curse  withdrawing  every 
human  right  from  the  outlaw,  living  or  dead,  and  the 
congregants,  extinguishing  their  torches,  cried,  "Amen." 
And  in  a  spiritual  darkness  as  black,  Manasseh  tottered 
home  to  sit  with  his  wife  on  the  floor  and  bewail  the  death 
of  their  Joseph,  Avhile  a  death-light  glimmering  faintly 
swam,  on  a  bowl  of  oil,  and  the  prayers  for  the  repose  of 
the  soul  of  the  deceased  rose  passionately  on  the  tainted 
Ghetto  air.  And  Miriam,  her  Madonna-like  face  Avet  with 
hot  tears,  burnt  the  praying-shawl  she  was  weaving  in  secret 
love  for  the  man  who  might  one  day  have  loved  her,  and 
went  to  condole  with  the  mourners,  holding  Rachel's  rugged 
hand  in  those  soft,  sweet  fingers  that  no  lover  would  ever 
clasp. 

But  Rachel  wept  for  her  child,  and  would  not  be  com- 
forted. 


IV 

Helena  de'  Franchi  gave  the  news  of  the  ban  to  Giu- 
seppe de'  Franchi.  She  had  learned  it  from  one  of  her 
damsels,  who  had  had  it  from  Shloumi  the  Droll,  a  grace- 
less, humorous  rogue,  steering  betwixt  Jews  and  Christians 
his  shifty  way  to  profit. 

Giuseppe  smiled  a  sweet  smile  that  hovered  on  the  brink 
of  tears.     "  They  know  not  what  they  do,"  he  said. 

**Thy  parents  mourn  thee  as  dead." 

"  They  mourn  the  dead  Jew  ;  the  living  Christian's  love 
shall  comfort  them." 

35 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

**Bat  thou  mayst  not  approach  them,  nor  they  thee." 

*'By  faith  are  mountains  moved;  my  spirit  embraces 
theirs.  "We  shall  yet  rejoice  together  in  the  light  of  the 
Saviour,  for  weeping  may  endure  for  a  night,  but  joy 
Cometh  in  the  morning."  His  pale  face  gleamed  with 
celestial  radiance. 

Helena  surveyed  him  in  wondering  compassion.  "  Thou 
art  strangely  possessed,  Ser  Giuseppe,"  she  said. 

"It  is  not  strange,  Signora,  it  is  all  simple — like  a  child's 
thought,"  he  said,  meeting  her  limpid  eyes  with  his  pro- 
found mystic  gaze. 

She  was  tall  and  fair,  more  like  those  Greek  statues 
which  the  sculptors  of  her  day  imitated  than  like  a  Roman 
maiden.  A  simple  dress  of  white  silk  revealed  the  beauti- 
ful curves  of  her  figure.  Through  the  great  oriel  window 
near  which  they  stood  the  cold  sunshine  touched  her  hair 
and  made  spots  of  glory  on  the  striped  beast-skins  that 
covered  the  floor,  and  on  the  hanging  tapestries.  The 
pictures  and  ivories,  the  manuscripts  and  the  busts  all 
contributed  to  make  the  apartment  a  harmonious  setting 
for  her  noble  figure.     As  he  looked  at  her  he  trembled. 

"  And  what  is  thy  life  to  be  henceforward  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Surrender,  sacrifice,"  he  said  half  in  a  whisper.  '*  My 
parents  are  right.  Joseph  is  dead.  His  will  is  God's,  his 
heart  is  Christ's.     There  is  no  life  for  me  but  service." 

"And  whom  wilt  thou  serve  ?" 

"My  brethren,  Signora." 

"They  reject  thee." 

"I  do  not  reject  them." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  more  passionately 
she  cried  :  "  But,  Ser  Giuseppe,  thou  wilt  achieve  nothing. 
A  hundred  generations  have  failed  to  move  them.  The 
Bulls  of  all  the  Popes  have  left  them  stubborn." 

"No  one  has  tried  Love,  Signora." 

36 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

*'  Thou  wilt  throw  away  thy  life." 

He  smiled  wistfully.     "  Thou  forgettest  I  am  dead." 

"Thou  art  not  dead — the  sap  is  in  thy  veins.  The 
spring-time  of  the  year  comes.  See  how  the  sun  shines 
already  in  the  blue  sky.  Thou  shalt  not  die — it  is  thine 
to  be  glad  in  the  sun  and  in  the  fairness  of  things." 

''  The  sunshine  is  but  a  symbol  of  the  Divine  Love,  the 
pushing  buds  but  prefigure  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life." 

"Thou  dreamest,  Giuseppe  mio.  Thou  dreamest  Avith 
those  wonderful  eyes  of  thine  open.  I  do  not  understand 
this  Love  of  thine  that  turns  from  things  earthly,  that 
rends  thy  father's  and  mother's  heart  in  twain." 

His  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Pazienza  !  earthly  things 
are  but  as  shadows  that  pass.  It  is  thou  that  dreamest, 
Signora.  Dost  thou  not  feel  the  transitoriness  of  it  all — 
yea,  even  of  this  solid-seeming  terrestrial  plain  and  yon 
overhanging  roof  and  the  beautiful  lights  set  therein  for 
our  passing  pleasure  !  This  sun  Avhich  swims  daily  through 
the  firmament  is  but  a  painted  phantasm  compared  with 
the  eternal  rock  of  Christ's  Love." 

"Thy  words  are  tinkling  cymbals  to  me,  Ser  Giuseppe." 

"They  are  those  of  thy  faith,  Signora." 

"Nay,  not  of  my  faith,"  she  cried  vehemently.  "  Thou 
knowest  I  am  no  Christian  at  heart.  Nay,  nor  are  any  of 
our  house,  though  they  perceive  it  not.  My  father  fasts 
at  Lent,  but  it  is  the  Pagan  Aristotle  that  nourishes  his 
thought.  Rome  counts  her  beads  and  mumbles  her  pater- 
nosters, but  she  has  outgrown  the  primitive  faith  in  Re- 
nunciation. Our  pageants  and  processions,  our  splendid 
feasts,  our  gorgeous  costumes,  Avhat  have  these  to  do 
with  the  pale  Christ,  Avhom  thou  wouldst  foolishly  emu- 
late ?" 

"  Then  there  is  work  for  me  to  do,  even  among  the 
Christians,"  he  said  mildly. 

37 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'  Nay,  it  is  but  mischief  thou  wonldst  do,  with  thy  pas- 
sionless ghost  of  a  creed.  It  is  the  artists  who  have  brought 
back  joy  to  the  world,  who  have  perceived  the  soul  of 
beauty  in  all  things.  And  though  they  have  feigned  to 
paint  the  Holy  Family  and  the  Crucifixion  and  the  Dead 
Christ  and  the  Last  Supper,  it  is  the  loveliness  of  life  that 
has  inspired  their  art.  Yea,  even  from  the  prayerful  Giotto 
downwards,  it  is  the  pride  of  life,  it  is  the  glory  of  the  hu- 
man form,  it  is  the  joy  of  color,  it  is  the  dignity  of  man, 
it  is  the  adoration  of  the  Muses.  Ay,  and  have  not  our 
nobles  had  themselves  painted  as  Apostles,  have  they  not 
intruded  their  faces  into  sacred  scenes,  have  they  not  un- 
derstood for  what  this  religious  art  was  a  pretext  ?  Is  not 
Home  full  of  Pagan  art  ?  Were  not  the  Laocoon  and  the 
Cleopatra  and  the  Venus  placed  in  the  very  orange  garden 
of  the  Vatican  ?" 

"Natheless  it  is  the  Madonna  and  the  Child  that  your 
painters  have  loved  best  to  paint." 

*'  'Tis  but  Venus  and  Cupid  over  again." 

"  Nay,  these  sneers  belie  the  noble  Signora  de'  Franehi. 
Thou  canst  not  be  blind  to  the  divine  asj)iration  that  lay 
behind  a  Madonna  of  Sandro  Botticelli." 

"  Thou  hast  not  seen  his  frescoes  in  the  Villa Lemmi,  out- 
side Firenze,  the  dainty  grace  of  his  forms,  the  charming 
color,  else  thou  wouldst  understand  that  it  was  not  spirit- 
ual beauty  alone  that  his  soul  coveted." 

"  But  Raffaello  da  Urbino,  but  Leonardo — " 

" Leonardo,"  she  repeated.  "Hast  thou  seen  his  Bac- 
chus, or  his  battle-fresco  ?  Knowest  thou  the  later  work 
of  Raffaello  ?  And  what  sayest  thou  to  our  Fra  Lippo 
Lippi  ?  A  Christian  monk  he,  forsooth  !  What  sayest 
thou  to  Giorgione  of  Venice  and  his  pupils,  to  this  efflo- 
rescence of  loveliness,  to  our  statuaries  and  our  builders, 
to  our  goldsmiths  and  musicians  ':*    Ah,  we  have  rediscov- 

38 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

erecl  the  secret  of  Greece.  It  is  Homer  that  we  love,  it  is 
Plato,  it  is  the  noble  simplicity  of  Sophocles  ;  our  Dante 
lied  when  he  said  it  was  Virgil  who  was  his  guide.  The 
poet  of  Mantua  never  led  mortal  to  those  dolorous  regions. 
He  sings  of  flocks  and  bees,  of  birds  and  running  brooks, 
and  the  simple  loves  of  shepherds  ;  and  we  listen  to  him 
again  and  breathe  the  sweet  country  air,  the  sweeter  for 
the  memory  of  those  hell-fumes  which  have  poisoned  life 
for  centuries.     Apollo  is  Lord,  not  Christ." 

"  It  is  Apollyon  who  tempts  Rome  thus  with  the  world 
and  the  flesh." 

**  Thou  hast  dethroned  thy  reason,  Messer  Giuseppe. 
Thou  knowest  these  things  dignify,  not  degrade  our  souls. 
Hast  thou  not  thrilled  with  me  at  the  fairness  of  a  pict- 
ured face,  at  the  glow  of  luminous  color,  at  the  white  ra- 
diance of  a  statue  ?" 

"  I  sinned  if  I  loved  beauty  for  itself  alone,  and — forgive 
me  if  I  wound  thee,  lady — this  worship  of  beauty  is  for  the 
rich,  the  well-fed,  the  few.  What  of  the  poor  and  the 
down-trodden  who  weep  in  darkness  ?  What  comfort  holds 
thy  creed  for  such  ?  All  these  wonders  of  the  human  hand 
and  the  human  brain  are  as  straws  weighed  against  a  pure 
heart,  a  righteous  deed.  The  ages  of  Art  have  always 
been  the  ages  of  abomination,  Signora.  It  is  not  in  cun- 
ning but  in  simplicity  that  our  Lord  is  revealed.  Unless 
ye  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven." 

*' Heaven  is  here."  Her  eyes  gleamed.  Her  bosom 
heaved.  The  fire  of  her  glance  passed  to  his.  Her  love- 
liness troubled  him,  the  matchless  face  and  form  that  now 
blent  the  purity  of  a  statue  with  the  warmth  of  living 
woman. 

"Verily,  where  Christ  is  Heaven  is.  Thou  hast  moved 
in  such  splendor  of  light,  Signora  de'  Franchi,  thou  dost 

39 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

not  realize  thy  privilege.  Jiut  I,  who  have  always  walked 
in  darkness,  am  as  a  blind  man  restored  to  sight.  I  was 
ambitious,  lustful,  torn  by  doubts  and  questionings ;  now 
I  am  bathed  in  the  divine  peace,  all  my  questions  answer- 
ed, my  riotous  blood  assuaged.  Love,  love,  that  is  all ; 
the  surrender  of  one's  will  to  the  love  that  moves  the  sun 
and  all  the  stars,  as  your  Dante  says.  And  sun  and  stars 
do  but  move  to  this  end,  Signora — that  human  souls  jnay 
be  born  and  die  to  live,  in  oneness  Avith  Love.  Oh,  my 
brethren" — he  stretched  out  his  arms  yearningly,  and  his 
eyes  and  his  voice  were  full  of  tears — "  why  do  ye  haggle 
in  the  market-place  ?  Why  do  ye  lay  up  store  of  gold  and 
silver  ?  Why  do  ye  chase  the  futile  shadows  of  earthly 
joy  ?  This,  this  is  the  true  ecstasy,  to  give  yourself  up  to 
God,  all  in  all,  to  ask  only  to  be  the  channel  of  His  holy 
will." 

Helena's  face  was  full  of  a  grave  wonder  ;  for  a  moment 
an  answering  light  was  rellectcd  on  it  as  though  she  yearned 
for  the  strange  raptures  she  could  not  understand. 

*' All  this  is  sheer  folly.  Thy  brethren  hear  thee  now  as 
little  as  they  will  ever  hear  thee." 

"  I  shall  pray  night  and  day  that  my  lips  may  be  touched 
with  the  sacred  fire." 

"  Love,  too,  is  a  sacred  fire.  Dost  thou  purpose  to  live 
without  that  ?"  She  drew  nearer.  Her  breath  stirred  the 
black  lock  on  his  forehead.  He  moved  back  a  pace,  thrilling. 

"I  shall  have  divine  Love,  Signora." 

"  Thou  art  bent  on  becoming  a  Dominican  ?" 

"I  am  fixed." 

"The  cloister  will  content  thee  ?" 

"  It  will  be  Heaven." 

*'  Ay,  where  there  is  no  marrying  nor  giving  in  mar- 
riage. AVhat  Samson-creed  is  this  that  pulls  down  the  pil- 
lars of  human  society  ?" 

40 


JOSEPH    THE    DEEAMER 

"  Nay,  marriage  is  in  the  scheme.  'Tis  the  symbol  of  a 
diviner  union.  But  it  is  not  for  all  men.  It  is  not  for 
those  who  symbolize  divine  things  otherwise,  who  tj^pify  to 
their  fellow-men  the  flesh  crucified,  the  soul  sublimed.  It 
is  not  for  priests." 

"  But  thou  art  not  a  priest." 

*''Tis  a  question  of  days.  But  were  I  even  refused  or- 
ders I  should  still  remain  celibate." 

"  Still  remain  celibate  !     Wherefore  ?" 

"  Because  mine  own  people  are  cut  off  from  me.  And 
were  I  to  marry  a  Christian,  like  so  many  Jewish  converts, 
the  power  of  my  example  would  be  lost.  They  would  say 
of  me,  as  they  say  of  them,  that  it  was  not  the  light  of 
Christ  but  a  Christian  maiden's  eyes  that  dazzled  and  drew. 
They  are  hard  ;  they  do  not  believe  in  the  possibility  of 
a  true  conversion.  Others  have  enriched  themselves  by 
apostasy,  or,  being  rich,  have  avoided  impoverishing  mulcts 
and  taxes.  But  I  have  lost  all  my  patrimony,  and  I  will 
accept  nothing.  That  is  why  I  refused  thy  father's  kind 
offices,  the  place  in  the  Seal -office,  or  even  the  humbler 
position  of  mace-bearer  to  his  Holiness.  When  my  breth- 
ren see,  moreover,  tliat  I  force  from  them  no  pension  nor 
moneys,  not  even  a  white  farthing,  that  I  even  preach  to 
them  without  Avage,  verily  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  as  your 
idiom  hath  it,  when  they  see  that  I  live  pure  and  lonely, 
then  they  will  listen  to  me.  Perchance  their  hearts  will 
be  touched  and  their  eyes  opened."  His  face  shone  with 
wan  radiance.  That  was,  indeed,  the  want,  he  felt  sure. 
No  Jew  had  ever  stood  before  his  brethren  an  unimpeach- 
able Christian,  above  suspicion,  without  fear,  and  without 
reproach.     Oh,  happy  privilege  to  fill  this  apostolic  r6le  ! 

''  But  suppose — "  Helena  hesitated  ;  then  lifting  her 
lovely  eyes  to  meet  his  in  fearless  candor,  *'  she  whom  you 
loved  were  no  Christian." 

41 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

He  trembled,  clenching  his  hands  to  drive  back  the  mad 
wave  of  earthly  emotion  that  flooded  him,  as  the  tide  swells 
to  the  moon,  under  the  fervor  of  her  eyes. 

"  I  should  kill  my  love  all  the  same,"  he  said  hoarsely. 
"  The  Jews  are  hard.  They  will  not  make  fine  distinctions. 
They  know  none  but  Jews  and  Christians." 

"Methinks  I  see  my  father  galloping  up  the  street," 
said  Helena,  turning  to  the  oriel  window.  "That  should 
be  his  feather  and  his  brown  Turkey  horse.  But  the  sun 
dazzles  my  eyes  !     I  will  leave  thee." 

She  passed  to  the  door  without  looking  at  him.  Then 
turning  suddenly  so  that  his  own  eyes  were  dazzled,  she 
said — 

"  My  heart  is  with  thee  whatsoever  thou  choosest.  Only 
bethink  thee  well,  ere  thou  donnest  cowl  and  gown,  that 
unlovely  costume  which,  to  speak  after  thine  own  pattern, 
symbolizes  all  that  is  unlovely.     Addio  /" 

He  followed  her  and  took  her  hand,  and,  bending  down, 
kissed  it  reverently.     She  did  not  withdraw  it. 

"■  Hast  thou  the  strength  for  the  serge  and  the  cord, 
Giuseppe  mio  ?"  she  asked  softly. 

He  drew  himself  up,  holding  her  hand  in  his. 

"Yes," he  said.  "Thou  shalt  inspire  mo,  Helena.  The 
thought  of  thy  radiant  purity  shall  keep  me  pure  and  un- 
faltering." 

A  fathomless  expression  crossed  Helena's  face.  She 
drew  away  her  hand. 

"I  cannot  inspire  to  death,"  she  said.  "I  can  only  in- 
spire to  life." 

He  closed  his  eyes  in  ecstatic  vision.  "'Tis  not  death. 
He  is  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,"  he  murmured. 

When  he  opened  his  eyes  she  Avas  gone.  He  fell  on  his 
knees  in  a  passion  of  prayer,  in  the  agony  of  the  crucifix- 
ion of  the  flesh. 

42 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 


During  his  novitiate,  before  he  had  been  admitted  to 
monastic  vows,  he  preached  a  trial  "  Sermon  to  the  Jews  " 
in  a  hirge  oratory  near  the  Ghetto.  A  churcli  would  have 
been  contaminated  by  the  presence  of  heretics,  and  even 
from  the  Oratory  any  religious  objects  that  lay  about  had 
been  removed.  There  was  a  goodly  array  of  fashionable 
Christians,  resplendent  in  gold-fringed  mantles  and  silk- 
ribboned  hats  ;  for  he  was  rumored  eloquent,  and  Anni- 
bale  de'  Franchi  was  there  in  pompous  presidency.  One 
Jew  came — Shloumi  the  Droll,  relying  on  his  ability  to 
wriggle  out  of  the  infraction  of  the  ban,  and  earn  a  meal 
or  two  by  reporting  the  proceedings  to  the  fatiori  and  the 
other  dignitaries  of  the  Ghetto,  whose  human  curiosity 
might  be  safely  counted  upon.  Shloumi  was  rich  in  de- 
vices. Had  he  not  even  for  months  flaunted  a  crimson 
cap  in  the  eye  of  Christendom,  and  had  he  not  when  at 
last  brought  before  the  Caporioni,  pleaded  that  this  was 
merely  an  ostensive  sample  of  the  hats  he  was  selling,  his 
true  yellow  hat  being  unintentionally  hidden  beneath  ? 
But  Giuseppe  de'  Franchi  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  him 
now. 

''He  is  a  gossip,  he  will  scatter  the  seed,"  he  thought. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  the  preacher  was 
walking  in  the  Via  Lepida,  near  the  Monastery  of  St. 
Dominic.  There  was  a  touch  on  his  mantle.  He  turned. 
"  Miriam  !"  he  cried,  shrinking  back. 

"  AVhy  shrinkest  thou  from  me,  Joseph  ?" 

"Knowest  thou  not  I  am  under  the  ban  ?  Look,  is  not 
that  a  Jew  yonder  who  regards  us  ?" 

''I  care  not.     I  have  a  word  to  say  to  thee." 

"But  thou  wilt  be  accursed." 

43 


DKEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''  I  have  a  word  to  say  to  thee." 

His  eyes  lit  up.  "  Ah,  thou  believest  !"  he  cried  exult- 
antly.    "  Thou  hast  found  grace." 

"  Nay,  Joseph,  that  will  never  be.  I  love  our  fathers' 
faith.  Methinks  I  have  understood  it  better  than  thou, 
though  I  have  not  dived  like  thee  into  holy  lore.  It  is  by 
the  heart  alone  that  I  understand." 

*' Then  why  dost  thou  come  ?  Let  us  turn  clown  tow- 
ards the  Coliseum.  'Tis  quieter,  and  less  frequented  of 
our  brethren." 

They  left  the  busy  street  with  its  bustle  of  coaches,  and 
water-carriers  with  their  asses,  and  porters,  and  mounted 
nobles  with  trains  of  followers,  and  swash-buckling  swords- 
men, any  of  whom  might  have  insulted  Miriam,  conspicu- 
ous by  her  beauty  and  by  the  square  of  yellow  cloth,  a 
palm  and  a  half  wide,  set  above  her  coiffure.  They  walked 
on  in  silence  till  they  came  to  the  Arch  of  Titus.  Invol- 
untarily both  stopped,  for  by  reason  of  the  Temple  candle- 
stick that  figured  as  spoil  in  the  carving  of  the  Triumph 
of  Titus,  no  Jew  would  pass  under  it.  Titus  and  his  em- 
pire had  vanished,  but  the  Jew  still  hugged  his  memories 
and  his  dreams. 

An  angry  sulphur  sunset,  streaked  with  green,  hung 
over  the  ruined  temples  of  the  ancient  gods  and  tlie  grass- 
grown  fora  of  the  Romans.  It  touched  with  a  glow  as  of 
blood  the  highest  fragment  of  the  Coliseum  wall,  behind 
which  beasts  and  men  had  made  sport  for  the  Masters  of 
the  AVorld.    The  rest  of  the  Titanic  ruin  seemed  in  shadow. 

"  Is  it  well  with  my  parents  ?"  said  Joseph  at  last. 

"  Hast  thou  the  face  to  ask  ?  Thy  mother  weeps  all 
day,  save  when  thy  father  is  at  home.  Then  she  makes 
herself  as  stony  as  he.  He — an  elder  of  the  synagogue  I — 
thou  hast  brought  down  his  gray  hairs  in  sorrow  to  the 
grave." 

44 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

He  swallowed  a  sob.  Then,  with  something  of  his 
father's  stoniness,  ''Suffering  chastens,  Miriam,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  God's  weapon." 

"Accuse  not  God  of  thy  cruelty.  I  hate  thee."  She 
went  on  rapidly,  *'It  is  rumored  in  the  Ghetto  thou  art 
to  be  a  friar  of  St.  Dominic.  Shloumi  the  Droll  brought 
the  news." 

*'It  is  so,  Miriam.     I  am  to  take  the  vows  at  once." 

"But  how  canst  thou  become  a  priest  ?  Thou  lovest  a 
woman." 

He  stopped  in  his  walk,  startled. 

"  What  sayest  thou,  Miriam  ?" 

"  Nay,  this  is  no  time  for  denials.  I  know  her.  I 
know  thy  love  for  her.     It  is  Helena  de'  Franchi." 

He  was  white  and  agitated.     "  Nay,  I  love  uo  woman." 

"  Thou  lovest  Helena." 

"  How  knowest  thou  that  ?" 

"I  am  a  woman." 

They  walked  on  silently. 

"  And  this  is  what  thou  camest  to  say  ?" 

*'Nay,  this.     Thou  must  marry  her  and  be  happy." 

"  I — I  cannot,  Miriam.     Thou  dost  not   understand." 

"  Not  understand  !  I  can  read  thee  as  thou  readest  the 
Law — without  vowels.  Thou  thinkest  we  Jews  will  point 
the  finger  of  scorn  at  thee,  that  we  will  say  it  was  Helena 
thou  didst  love,  not  the  Crucified  One,  that  we  will  not 
listen  to  thy  gospel." 

"  But  is  it  not  so  ?" 

"It  is  so." 

"  Then—" 

"But  it  will  be  so,  do  what  thou  wilt.  Cut  thyself 
into  little  pieces  and  we  would  not  believe  in  thee  or  thy 
gospel.  I  alone  have  faith  in  thy  sincerity,  and  to  me 
thou  art  as  one  mad  with  over-study.    Joseph,  thy  dream  is 

45 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

vain.  The  Jews  hate  thee.  They  call  thee  Haman.  Will- 
ingly would  they  see  thee  hanged  on  a  high  tree.  Thy 
memory  will  be  an  execration  to  the  third  and  fourth  gen- 
eration. Thou  wilt  no  more  move  them  than  the  seven 
hills  of  Rome.     They  have  stood  too  long.*' 

*' Ay,  they  have  stood  like  stones.  I  will  melt  them.  I 
will  save  them." 

"Thou  wilt  destroy  them.  Save  rather  thyself  —  wed 
this  woman  and  be  happy." 

He  looked  at  her. 

"  Be  happy,"  she  repeated.  "  Do  not  throw  away  thy 
life  for  a  vain  shadow.  Be  happy.  It  is  my  last  Avord  to 
thee.  Henceforth,  as  a  true  daughter  of  Judah,  I  obey 
the  ban,  and  were  I  a  mother  in  Israel  my  children  should 
be  taught  to  hate  thee  even  as  I  do.  Peace  be  with 
thee !" 

He  caught  at  her  gown.  ''  Go  not  without  my  thanks, 
though  I  must  reject  thy  counsel.  To-morrow  I  am  ad- 
mitted into  the  Brotherhood  of  Righteousness."  In  the 
fading  light  his  face  shone  weird  and  unearthly  amid  the 
raven  hair.  "But  why  didst  thou  risk  thy  good  name  to 
tell  me  thou  hatest  me  ?" 

"  Because  I  love  thee.     Farewell." 

She  sped  away. 

He  stretched  out  his  arms  after  her.  His  eyes  were  blind 
with  mist.  "  Miriam,  Miriam  !"  he  cried.  "  Come  back, 
thou  too  art  a  Christian  !  Come  back,  my  sweet  sister  in 
Christ  !" 

A  drunken  Dominican  lurched  into  his  open  arms. 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 


VI 

The  Jews  would  not  come  to  hear  Era  Giuseppe.  All 
ills  impassioned  spirituality  was  wasted  on  an  audience  of 
Christians  and  oft -converted  converts.  Baffled,  he  fell 
back  on  scholastic  argumentation,  but  in  vain  did  he  turn 
the  weapons  of  Talmud ic  dialectic  against  the  Talmudists 
themselves.  Not  even  his  discovery  by  cabbalistic  calcu- 
lations that  the  Pope's  name  and  office  were  predicted  in 
the  Old  Testament  availed  to  draw  the  Jews,  and  it  was 
only  in  the  streets  that  he  came  upon  the  scowling  faces  of 
his  brethren.  For  months  he  preached  in  patient  sweet- 
ness, then  one  day,  desperate  and  unstrung,  he  sought  an 
interview  with  the  Pope,  to  petition  that  the  Jews  might 
be  commanded  to  come  to  his  sermons  ;  he  found  the  Pon- 
tiff in  bed,  unwell,  but  chatting  blithely  with  the  Bishop 
of  Salamanca  and  the  Procurator  of  the  Exchequer,  ap- 
parently of  a  droll  mishap  that  had  befallen  the  French 
Legate.  It  was  a  pale  scholarly  face  that  lay  back  on  the 
white  pillow  under  the  purple  skull-cap,  but  it  was  not  de- 
void of  the  stronger  lines  of  action.  Giuseppe  stood  timid- 
ly at  the  door,  till  the  Wardrobe-Keeper,  a  gentleman  of 
Tioble  family,  told  him  to  advance.  lie  moved  forward 
reverently,  and  kneeling  down  kissed  the  Pope's  feet. 
Then  he  rose  and  proffered  his  request.  But  the  ruler  of 
Christendom  frowned.  He  was  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman, 
a  great  patron  of  letters  and  the  arts.  AViser  than  that  of 
temporal  kings,  his  Jewish  policy  had  always  been  com- 
paratively mild.  It  was  his  foreign  policy  that  absorbed 
his  zeal,  considerably  to  the  prejudice  of  his  popularity  at 
home.  While  Giuseppe  de'  Fninchi  was  pleading  desper- 
ately to  a  bored  Prelate,  explaining  how  he  could  solve  the 
Jewish  question,  how  he  could  play  upon  his  brethren  as 

47 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

David  upon  the  harp,  if  he  could  only  get  them  under  the 
spell  of  his  voice,  a  gentleman  of  the  bed-chamber  brought 
in  a  refection  on  a  silver  tray,  the  Preguste  tasted  of  the 
food  to  ensure  its  freedom  from  poison,  though  it  came 
from  the  Papal  kitchen,  and  at  a  sign  from  his  Holiness, 
Giuseppe  had  to  stand  aside.  And  ere  the  Pope  had  fin- 
ished there  Avere  other  interruptions  ;  the  chief  of  his  band 
of  musicians  came  for  instructions  for  the  concert  at  his 
Ferragosto  on  the  first  of  August ;  and — most  vexatious  of 
all — a  couple  of  goldsmiths  came  with  their  work,  and 
with  rival  models  of  a  button  for  the  Pontifical  cope. 
Giuseppe  fumed  and  fretted  while  the  Holy  Father  put  on 
his  spectacles  to  examine  the  great  silver  vase  which  was 
to  receive  the  droppings  from  his  table,  its  richly  chased 
handles  and  its  festoons  of  acanthus  leaves,  and  its  ingenious 
masks  ;  and  its  fellow  which  was  to  stand  in  his  cupboard 
and  hold  water,  and  had  a  beautiful  design  representing 
St.  Ambrogio  on  horseback  routing  the  Arians.  And  when 
one  of  the  jewellers  had  been  dismissed,  laden  with  ducats 
by  the  Pope's  datary,  the  other  remained  an  intolerable 
time,  for  it  appeared  his  Holiness  was  mightily  pleased 
with  his  wax  model,  marvelling  how  cunningly  the  artist 
had  represented  God  the  Father  in  bas-relief,  sitting  in  an 
easy  attitude,  and  how  elegantly  he  had  set  the  fine  edge 
of  the  biggest  diamond  exactly  in  the  centre.  ''  Speed  the 
work,  my  son,"  said  His  Holiness,  dismissing  him  at  last, 
"for  I  would  wear  the  button  myself  before  I  die."  Then, 
raising  a  beaming  face,  "  Wouldst  thou  aught  further  with 
me,  Fra  Giuseppe  ?  Ah,  I  recall !  Thou  yearnest  to 
preach  to  thy  stiff-necked  kinsmen.  Ebbenc,  'tis  a  worthy 
ambition.  Luigi,  remember  me  to-morrow  to  issue  a 
Bull." 

With  sudden-streaming  eyes  the  Friar  fell  at  the  Pontiff's 
feet  again,  kissing  them  and  murmuring  incoherent  thanks. 

48 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

Then  he  bowed  his  way  out,  and  hastened  back  joyfully  to 
the  convent. 

The  Bull  duly  appeared.  The  Jews  were  to  attend  his 
next  sermon.  He  awaited  the  Sabbath  afternoon  in  a 
frenzy  of  spiritual  ecstasy.  He  prepared  a  wonderful  ser- 
mon. The  Jews  would  not  dare  to  disobey  the  Edict.  It 
was  too  definite.  It  could  not  be  evaded.  And  their 
apathetic  resistance  never  came  till  later,  after  an  obedient 
start.  The  days  passed.  The  Bull  had  not  been  counter- 
manded, although  he  was  aware  backstairs  influence  had 
been  tried  by  the  bankers  of  the  community;  it  had  not 
even  been  modified  under  the  pretence  of  defining  it,  as 
was  the  manner  of  Popes  with  too  rigorous  Bulls.  No, 
nothing  could  save  the  Jews  from  his  sermon. 

On  the  Thursday  a  plague  broke  out  in  the  Ghetto ;  on 
the  Friday  a  tenth  of  the  population  was  dead.  Another 
overflow  of  the  Tiber  had  co-operated  with  the  malarious 
eflBuvia  of  those  congested  alleys,  those  strictly  limited 
houses  swarming  with  multiplying  broods.  On  the  Satur- 
day the  gates  of  the  Ghetto  were  officially  closed.  The 
plague  was  shut  in.  For  three  months  the  outcasts  of 
humanity  were  pent  in  their  pestiferous  prison  day  and 
night  to  live  or  die  as  they  chose.  When  at  length  the 
Ghetto  was  opened  and  disinfected,  it  was  the  dead,  not 
the  living,  that  were  crowded. 


VII 

Joseph  the  Dreamer  was  half  stunned  by  this  second 
blow  to  his  dreams.  An  earthly  anxiety  he  would  not 
avow  to  himself  consumed  him  during  the  progress  of  the 
plague,  which  in  spite  of  all  efforts  escaped  from  the 
Ghetto  as  if  to  punish  those  who  had  produced  the  condi- 
D  49 


DKEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

tions  of  its  existence.  But  his  anxiety  was  not  for  himself 
— it  was  for  his  mother  and  father,  it  was  for  the  noble 
Miriam.  When  he  was  not  in  fearless  attendance  upon 
plague-stricken  Christians  he  walked  near  the  city  of  the 
dead,  whence  no  news  could  come.  AVheu  at  last  he 
learned  that  his  dear  ones  were  alive,  another  blow  fell. 
The  Bull  was  still  to  be  enforced,  but  the  Pope's  ear  was 
tenderer  to  the  survivors.  He  respected  their  hatr3d  of 
Era  Giuseppe,  their  protest  that  they  would  more  willingly 
hear  any  other  preacher.  The  duty  was  to  be  undertaken 
by  his  brother  Dominicans  in  turn.  Giuseppe  alone  was 
forbidden  to  preach.  In  vain  he  sought  to  approach  his 
Holiness ;  he  was  denied  access.  Thus  began  that  strange 
institution,  the  Predica  Coattiva,  the  forced  sermon. 

Every  Sabbath  after  their  own  synagogue  sermon,  a  third 
of  the  population  of  the  Ghetto,  including  all  children 
above  the  age  of  twelve,  had  to  repair  in  turn  to  receive 
the  Antidote  at  the  Church  of  San  Benedetto  Alia  Eegola, 
specially  set  apart  for  them,  where  a  friar  gave  a  true  in- 
terpretation of  the  Old  Testament  portion  read  by  their 
own  cantor.  His  Holiness,  ever  more  considerate  than  his 
inferiors,  had  enjoined  the  preachers  to  avoid  the  names  of 
Jesus  and  the  Holy  Virgin,  so  offensive  to  Jewish  ears,  or 
to  pronounce  them  in  low  tones ;  but  the  spirit  of  these 
recommendations  was  forgotten  by  the  occupants  of  the 
pulpit  with  a  congregation  at  their  mercy  to  bully  and  de- 
nounce with  all  the  savage  resources  of  rhetoric.  Many 
Jews  lagged  reluctant  on  the  road  churchwards.  A  posse 
of  police  with  Avhips  drove  them  into  the  holy  fold.  This 
novel  church  procession  of  men,  women,  and  children  grew 
to  be  one  of  the  spectacles  of  Rome.  A  new  pleasure  had 
been  invented  for  the  mob.  These  compulsory  services 
involved  no  small  expense.  By  a  refinement  of  humor  the 
Jews  had  to  pay  for  their  own  conversion.     Evasion  of  the 

50 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

sermon  was  impossible;  a  register  placed  at  the  door  of 
the  church  kept  account  of  the  absentees,  Avhom  fine  and 
imprisonment  chastised.  To  keep  this  register  a  neophyte 
was  needed,  one  who  knew  each  individual  personally  and 
could  expose  substitutes.  What  better  man  than  the  new 
brother  ?  In  vain  Giuseppe  protested.  The  Prior  would 
not  hearken.  And  so  in  lieu  of  offering  the  sublime  specta- 
cle of  an  unpaid  apostleship,  the  powerless  instigator  of  the 
mischief,  bent  over  his  desk,  certified  the  identity  of  the 
listless  arrivals  by  sidelong  peeps,  conscious  that  he  was 
adding  the  pain  of  contact  with  an  excommunicated  Jew 
to  the  sufferings  of  his  brethren,  for  whose  Sabbath  his 
writing  -  pen  was  shamelessly  expressing  his  contempt. 
Many  a  Sabbath  he  saw  his  father,  a  tragic,  white-haired 
wreck,  touched  up  with  a  playful  whip  to  urge  him  faster 
towards  the  church  door.  It  was  Joseph  whom  that  Avhip 
stung  most.  AVhen  the  official  who  was  cl\arged  to  see 
that  the  congregants  paid  attention,  and  especially  that 
they  did  not  evade  the  sermon  by  slumber,  stirred  up 
Rachel  with  an  iron  rod,  her  unhappy  son  broke  into  a  cold 
sweat.  When,  every  third  Sabbath,  Miriam  passed  before 
his  desk  with  steadfast  eyes  of  scorn,  he  was  in  an  ague,  a 
fever  of  hot  and  cold.  His  only  consolation  was  to  see 
rows  of  devout  faces  listening  for  the  first  time  in  their 
life  to  the  gospel.  At  least  he  had  achieved  something. 
Even  Shloumi  the  Droll  had  grown  regenerate  ;  he  listened 
to  the  preachers  with  sober  reverence. 

Joseph  the  Dreamer  did  not  know  that,  adopting  the 
whimsical  device  hit  on  by  Shloumi,  all  these  devout  Jews 
had  wadding  stuffed  deep  into  their  ears. 

But,  meanwhile,  in  other  pulpits.  Era  Giuseppe  was  gain- 
ing great  fame.  Christians  came  from  far  and  near  to  hear 
him.  He  went  about  among  the  people  and  they  grew  to 
love  him.     He  preached  at  executions,  his  black  mantle 

61 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

and  white  scapulary  were  welcomed  in  loathsome  dungeons, 
he  absolved  the  dying,  he  exorcised  demons.  But  there 
was  one  sinner  he  could  not  absolve,  neither  by  hair-shirt 
nor  flagellation,  and  that  was  himself.  And  there  was  one 
demon  he  could  not  exorcise — that  in  his  own  breast,  the 
tribulation  of  his  own  soul,  bruising  itself  perjietually 
against  the  realities  of  life  and  as  torn  now  by  the  short- 
comings of  Christendom  as  formerly  by  those  of  the 
Ghetto. 

VIII 

It  was  the  Carnival  week  again — the  mad  blaspheming 
week  of  revelry  and  devilry.  The  streets  were  rainbow 
with  motley  wear  and  thunderous  with  the  roar  and  laugh- 
ter of  the  crowd,  recruited  by  a  vast  inflow  of  strangers ; 
from  the  Avindows  and  roofs,  black  with  heads,  frolicsome 
hands  threw  honey,  dirty  Avater,  rotten  eggs,  and  even 
boiling  oil  upon  the  pedestrians  and  cavaliers  below. 
Bloody  tumults  broke  out,  sacrilegious  masqueraders  in- 
vaded the  churches.  They  lampooned  all  things  human 
and  divine  ;  the  whip  and  the  gallows  liberally  applied 
availed  naught  to  check  the  popular  licence.  Every  pro- 
hibitory edict  became  a  dead  letter.  In  such  a  season  the 
Jews  might  w'ell  tremble,  made  over  to  the  facetious  Chris- 
tian ;  always  excellent  whetstones  for  wit,  they  afforded 
peculiar  diversion  in  Carnival  times.  On  the  first  day  a 
deputation  of  the  chief  Jews,  including  the  three  gonfal- 
oniers and  the  rabbis,  headed  the  senatorial  cortege,  and, 
attired  in  a  parti  -  colored  costume  of  red  and  yellow, 
marched  across  the  whole  city,  from  the  Piazza  of  the  Peo- 
ple to  the  Capitol,  through  a  double  fire  of  scurrilities. 
Arrived  at  the  Capitol,  the  procession  marched  into  the 
Hall  of  the  Throne,  where  the  three  Conservators  and  the 

53 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

Prior  of  the  Caporioni  sat  on  crimson  velvet  seats  with  the 
fiscal  advocate  of  the  Capitol  in  his  black  toga  and  velvet 
cap.  The  Chief  Rabbi  knelt  npon  the  first  step  of  the 
throne,  and,  bending  his  venerable  head  to  the  ground, 
pronounced  a  traditional  formula  :  "  Full  of  respect  and 
of  devotion  for  the  Roman  people,  we,  chiefs  and  rabbis 
of  the  humble  Jewish  community,  present  ourselves  before 
the  exalted  tlirone  of  Your  Eminences  to  offer  them  re- 
spectfully fidelity  and  homage  in  the  name  of  our  co-relig- 
ionists, and  to  implore  their  benevolent  commiseration. 
For  us,  we  shall  not  fail  to  supplicate  the  Most  High  to 
accord  peace  and  a  long  tranquillity  to  the  Sovereign  Pon- 
tiff, who  reigns  for  the  happiness  of  all  ;  to  the  Apostolic 
Holy  Seat,  as  well  as  to  Your  Eminences,  to  the  most  illus- 
trious Senate,  and  to  the  Roman  people." 

To  which  the  Chief  of  the  Conservators  replied:  "We 
accept  with  pleasure  the  homage  of  fidelity,  of  vassalage, 
and  of  respect,  the  expression  of  which  you  renew  to-day 
in  the  name  of  the  entire  Jewish  community,  and,  assured 
that  you  will  respect  the  laws  and  orders  of  the  Senate, 
and  that  you  Avill  pay,  as  in  the  past,  the  tribute  and  the 
dues  which  are  incumbent  upon  you,  we  accord  you  our 
protection  in  the  hope  that  you  will  know  how  to  make 
yourself  worthy  of  it."  Then,  placing  his  foot  upon  the 
Rabbi's  neck,  he  cried  :  "Andate  !"  (Begone  !) 

Rising,  the  Rabbi  presented  the  Conservators  with  a 
bouquet  and  a  cup  containing  twenty  crowns,  and  offered 
to  decorate  the  platform  of  the  Senator  on  the  Piazza  of 
the  People.  And  then  the  deputation  passed  again  in  its 
motley  gear  through  the  swarming  streets  of  buffoons, 
through  the  avenue  of  scurrilities,  to  renew  its  hypocrit- 
ical protestations  before  the  throne  of  the  Senator. 

Mock  processions  parodied  this  march  of  Jews.  The  fish- 
mongers, who,  from  their  proximity  to  the  Ghetto,  were 

53 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

aware  of  its  customs,  enriched  the  Carnival  with  divers 
other  parodies  ;  now  it  was  a  travesty  of  a  rabbi's  funeral, 
now  a  long  cavalcade  of  Jews  galloping  i;pon  asses,  pre- 
ceded by  a  mock  rabbi  on  horseback,  witli  his  head  to  the 
steed's  tail,  wliich  he  grasped  with  one  hand,  while  witli 
the  other  he  offered  an  imitation  Scroll  of  the  Law  to  the 
derision  of  the  mob.  Truly,  the  baiting  of  the  Jews  added 
rare  spice  to  the  fun  of  the  Carnival ;  their  hats  were  torn 
off,  filth  was  thrown  in  their  faces.  This  year  tlie  Gov- 
ernor of  Rome  had  interfered,  forbidding  anything  to  be 
thrown  at  them  except  fruit.  A  noble  marquis  won  face- 
tious fame  by  pelting  them  with  pineapples.  But  it  was 
not  till  the  third  day,  after  the  asses  and  buffaloes  had 
raced,  that  the  Jews  touched  the  extreme  of  indignity,  for 
this  was  the  day  of  the  Jew  races. 

The  morning  dawned  blue  and  cold  ;  but  soon  the  clouds 
gathered,  and  the  jostling  revellers  scented  with  joy  the 
prospect  of  rain.  At  the  Arch  of  San  Lorenza,  in  Lucina, 
iu  the  long  narrow  street  of  the  Via  Corso,  where  doorways 
and  casements  and  roofs  and  footways  were  agrin  with 
faces,  half  a  dozen  Jews  or  so  were  assembled  pell-mell. 
They  had  just  been  given  a  hearty  meal,  but  they  did  not 
look  grateful.  Almost  naked,  save  for  a  white  cloak  of  the 
meagrest  dimensions,  comically  indecent,  covered  with  tin- 
sel and  decorated  with  laurels,  they  stood  shivering,  await- 
ing the  command  to  "  Go  !"  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  all  this 
sinister  crowd,  overwelling  with  long- repressed  venom, 
seething  with  taunts  and  lewdness.  At  last  a  mounted 
officer  gave  the  word,  and,  amid  a  colossal  shout  of  glee 
from  the  mob,  the  half-naked,  grotesque  figures,  with  their 
strange  Oriental  faces  of  sorrow,  started  at  a  wild  run  down 
the  Corso.  The  goal  was  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo.  Origi- 
nally the  race -course  ended  with  the  Corso,  but  it  had 
been  considerably  lengthened  to  gratify  a  recent  Pope  who 

54 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

wished  to  have  the  finish  under  his  windows  as  he  sat  in 
his  semi-secret  Castle  chamber  amid  the  frescoed  nudes  of 
Giulio  Romano.  Fast,  fast  flew  the  racers,  for  the  sooner 
the  goal  was  reached  the  sooner  would  they  find  respite 
from  this  hail  of  sarcasm  mixed  with  weightier  stones,  and 
these  frequent  proddings  from  the  lively  sticks  of  the  by- 
standers, or  of  the  fine  folk  obstructing  the  course  in 
coaches  in  defiance  of  edict.  And  to  accelerate  their  pace 
still  further,  the  mounted  officer,  with  a  squad  of  soldiers 
armed  ca2i-d-pie,  galloped  at  their  heels,  ever  threatening  to 
ride  them  down.  They  ran,  ran,  puffing,  panting,  sweating, 
apoplectic  ;  for  to  the  end  that  they  might  nigh  burst  with 
stitches  in  the  side  had  a  brilliant  organizer  of  the  fete 
stuffed  them  full  with  preliminary  meat.  Oh,  droll  !  oh, 
delicious  !  oh,  rare  for  Antony  I  And  now  a  young  man 
noticeable  by  his  emaciated  face  and  his  premature  bald- 
ness was  drawing  to  the  front  amid  ironic  cheers.  When 
the  grotesque  racers  had  passed  by,  noble  cavaliers  displayed 
their  dexterity  at  the  quintain,  and  beautiful  ladies  at  the 
balconies — not  masked,  as  in  France,  but  radiantly  revealed 
— changed  their  broad  smiles  to  the  subtler  smiles  of  dalli- 
ance. And  then  suddenly  the  storm  broke — happy  ally  of 
i\\Q  fete — jocosely  drenching  the  semi-nude  runners.  On, 
on  they  sped,  breathless,  blind,  gasping,  befouled  by  mud, 
and  bruised  by  missiles,  with  the  horses'  hoofs  grazing  their 
heels ;  on,  on  along  the  thousand  yards  of  the  endless 
course  ;  on,  on,  sodden  and  dripping  and  stumbling.  They 
were  nearing  the  goal.  They  had  already  passed  San  Mar- 
co, the  old  goal.  The  young  Jew  was  still  leading,  but  a 
fat  old  Jew  pressed  him  close.  The  excitement  of  the 
crowd  redoubled.  A  thousand  mocking  voices  encouraged 
the  rivals.  They  were  on  the  bridge.  The  Castle  of  St. 
Angelo,  whose  bastions  were  named  after  the  Apostles,  was 
in  sight.     The  fut  old  Jew  drew  closer,  anxious,  now  that 

55 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

he  was  come  so  far,  to  secure  the  thirty-six  crowns  that  the 
prize  might  be  sold  for.  But  the  favorite  made  a  mighty 
spurt.  He  passed  the  Pope's  window,  and  the  day  was  liis. 
The  firmament  rang  with  kiughter  as  the  other  candidates 
panted  up.  A  great  yell  greeted  the  fall  of  the  fat  old  man 
in  the  roadway,  where  he  lay  prostrate. 

An  official  tendered  the  winner  the  pallio  which  was  the 
prize — a  piece  of  red  Venetian  cloth.  The  young  Jew  took 
it,  surveying  it  with  a  strange,  unfathomable  gaze,  but  the 
Judge  interposed. 

"  The  captain  of  the  soldiers  tells  me  they  did  not  start 
fair  at  the  Arch.  They  must  run  again  to-morrow."  This 
was  a  favorite  device  for  prolonging  the  fun.  But  the 
winner's  eyes  blazed  ominously. 

"  Nay,  but  we  started  as  balls  shot  from  a  falconet." 

"  Peace,  peace,  return  him  ihe pallio,"  whisjiered  a  racer 
behind  him,  tugging  apprehensively  at  his  one  garment. 
"They  always  adjudge  it  again  to  the  first  winner."  But 
the  young  man  was  reckless. 

"  Why  did  not  the  captain  stop  us,  then  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Keep  thy  tongue  between  thy  dog's  teeth,"  retorted 
the  Judge.  "  In  any  event  the  race  must  be  run  again,  for 
the  law  ordains  eight  runners  as  a  minimum." 

"  We  are  eight,"  replied  the  young  Jew. 

The  Judge  glared  at  the  rebel ;  then,  striking  each  rue- 
ful object  with  a  stick,  he  counted  out,  "One — two — three 
— four — five — six — seven  !" 

"Eight,"  persisted  the  young  man,  perceiving  for  the 
first  time  the  old  Jew  on  the  ground  behind  him,  and 
stooping  to  raise  him. 

"  That  creature  !  Basta  !  He  does  not  count.  He  is 
drunk." 

"Thou  hell-begotten  hound  !"  and  straightening  himself 
suddenly,  the  young  Jew  drew  a  crucifix  from  Avithin  his 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

cloak.  "  Thou  art  right  !"  he  cried  in  a  voice  of  thunder. 
"  There  are  only  seven  Jews,  for  I— I  am  no  Jew.  I  am 
Era  Giuseppe  I"  And  the  crucifix  whirled  round,  clearing 
a  space  of  awe  about  him. 

The  Judge  cowered  back  in  surprise  and  apprehension. 
The  soldiers  sat  their  horses  in  stony  amazement,  the  seeth- 
ing crowd  was  stilled  for  a  moment,  struck  to  silent  atten- 
tion. The  shower  had  ceased  and  a  ray  of  watery  sunlight 
glistened  on  the  crucifix. 

"  In  the  name  of  Christ  I  denounce  this  devil's  mockery 
of  the  Lord's  chosen  people,"  thundered  the  Dominican. 
"  Stand  back  all.  Will  no  one  bring  this  poor  old  man  a 
cup  of  cold  water  ?" 

"  Hasn't  Heaven  given  him  enough  cold  water  ?"  asked 
a  jester  in  the  crowd.     But  no  one  stirred. 

"  Then  may  you  all  burn  eternally,"  said  the  Friar.  He 
bent  down  again  and  raised  the  old  man's  head  tenderly. 
Then  his  face  grew  sterner  and  whiter,  "  He  is  dead,"  he 
said.  "  The  Christ  he  denied  receive  him  into  His  mercy." 
And  he  let  the  corpse  fall  gently  back  and  closed  the  glassy 
eyes.  The  bystanders  had  a  momentary  thrill.  Death  had 
lent  dignity  even  to  the  old  Jew.  He  lay  there,  felled  by 
an  apoplectic  stroke,  due  to  the  forced  heavy  meal,  the 
tinsel  gleaming  grotesquely  on  his  white  sodden  cloak,  his 
naked  legs  rigid  and  cold.  From  afar  the  rumors  of  revel- 
ry, the  brouhaha  of  a  mad  population,  saluted  his  deaf  cars, 
the  distant  music  of  lutes  and  viols.  The  captain  of  the 
soldiers  went  hot  and  cold.  He  had  harried  the  heels  of 
the  rotund  runner  in  special  amusement,  but  he  had  not 
designed  murder.  A  wave  of  compunction  traversed  the 
spectators.     But  the  Judge  recovered  himself. 

"  Seize  this  recreant  priest !"  he  cried.  "'  He  is  a  back- 
slider. He  has  gone  back  to  his  people.  He  is  become  a 
Jew  again — he  shall  be  flayed  alive." 

57 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''Back,  in  the  name  of  Holy  Church  !"  cried  Fra  Giu- 
seppe, veering  round  to  face  the  captain,  who,  however, 
had  sat  his  horse  without  moving.  "  I  am  no  Jew.  I  am 
as  good  a  Christian  as  his  Holiness,  who  but  just  now  sat  at 
yon  jalousie,  feasting  his  eyes  on  these  heathen  saturnalia." 

"Then  why  didst  thou  race  with  the  Jews  ?  It  is  con- 
tamination.    Thou  hast  defiled  thy  cloth." 

"  Nay,  I  wore  not  my  cloth.  Am  I  not  half  naked  ?  Is 
this  the  cloth  I  should  respect — this  gaudy  frippery,  which 
your  citizens  have  made  a  target  for  filth  and  abuse  ?" 

"  Thou  hast  brought  it  on  thyself,"  put  in  the  captain 
mildly.  "  Wherefore  didst  thou  race  with  this  pestilent 
people  ?" 

The  Dominican  bowed  his  head.  "  It  is  my  penance," 
he  said  in  tremulous  tones.  "  I  have  sinned  against  my 
brethren.  I  have  aggravated  their  griefs.  Therefore  would 
I  be  of  them  at  the  moment  of  their  extremest  humiliation, 
and  that  I  might  share  their  martyrdom  did  I  beg  his  place 
from  one  of  the  runners.  But  penance  is  not  all  my  mo- 
tive." And  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  they  blazed  terribly, 
and  his  tones  became  again  a  thunder  that  rolled  through 
the  crowd  and  far  down  the  bridge.  "  Ye  who  know  me, 
faithful  sous  and  daughters  of  Holy  Church,  ye  who  have 
so  often  listened  to  my  voice,  ye  into  whose  houses  I  have 
brought  the  comfort  of  the  Word,  join  with  me  now  in 
ending  the  long  martyrdom  of  the  Jews,  your  brethren.  It 
is  by  love,  not  hate,  that  Christ  rules  the  world.  I  deemed 
that  it  would  move  your  hearts  to  see  me,  whom  1  know  ye 
love,  covered  with  filth,  which  ye  had  never  thrown  had  ye 
known  me  in  this  strange  guise.  But  lo,  this  poor  old  man 
pleadeth  more  eloquently  than  I.  His  dead  lips  shake  your 
souls.  Go  home,  go  home  from  this  Pagan  mirth,  and  sit 
on  the  ground  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  pray  God  Ho 
make  you  better  Christians." 

58 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

There  was  an  uneasy  stir  in  the  crowd :  the  fantastic  mud- 
stained  tinsel  cloak,  the  bare  legs  of  the  speaker,  did  but 
add  to  his  impressiveness ;  he  seemed  some  strange  an- 
tique prophet,  come  from  the  far  ends  of  the  world  and 
time, 

"Be  silent,  blasphemer,"  said  the  Judge.  ''The  sports 
have  the  countenance  of  the  Holy  Father.  Heaven  itself 
hath  cursed  these  stinking  heretics.  Pah  !"  he  spurned  the 
dead  Jew  Avith  his  foot.  The  Friar's  bosom  swelled.  His 
head  was  hot  with  blood. 

"Not  Heaven  but  the  Pope  hath  cursed  them,"  he  re- 
torted vehemently.  "  Why  doth  he  not  banish  them  from 
his  dominions  ?  Nay,  he  knows  how  needful  they  are  to 
the  State.  When  he  exiled  them  from  all  save  the  three 
cities  of  refuge,  and  when  the  Jewish  merchants  of  the 
seaports  of  the  East  put  our  port  of  Ancona  under  a  ban, 
so  that  we  could  not  provision  ourselves,  did  not  his  Holi- 
ness hastily  recall  the  Jews,  confessing  their  value  ?  Which 
being  so,  it  is  love  we  should  otfer  them,  not  hatred  and  a 
hundred  degrading  edicts." 

"Thou  siialt  burn  in  the  Forum  for  this," spluttered  the 
Judge.  'MVho  art  tliou  to  set  thyself  up  against  God's 
Vicar  ?" 

"  He  God's  Vicar  ?  Nay,  I  am  sooner  God's  Vicar.  God 
speaks  through  me." 

His  wan,  emaciated  face  had  grown  rapt  and  shining;  to 
the  awed  mob  he  loomed  gigantic. 

"  This  is  treason  and  blasphemy.  Arrest  him  !"  cried 
the  Judge. 

The  Friar  faced  the  soldiers  unflinchingly,  though  only 
the  body  of  the  old  Jew  divided  him  from  their  prancing 
horses. 

"Nay,"  he  said  softly,  and  a  sweet  smile  mingled  with 
the  mystery  of  his  look.     "God  is  with  me.     He  hath  set 

59 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

this  bulwark  of  death  between  you  and  my  life.     Ye  will 
not  fight  under  the  banner  of  the  Anti-Christ."' 

''Death  to  the  renegade!"  cried  a  voice  in  the  crowd. 
''He  calls  the  Pope  Anti-Christ." 

"  Ay,  he  who  is  not  for  us  is  against  us.  Is  it  for  Christ 
that  he  rules  Eome  ?  Is  it  only  the  Jews  whom  he  vexes  ? 
Hath  not  his  rage  for  power  brought  the  enemy  to  the  gates 
of  Rome  ?  Have  not  his  companies  of  foreign  auxiliaries 
flouted  our  citizens  ?  Ye  know  how  Rome  hath  suffered 
through  the  machinations  of  his  bastard  son,  Avith  his  swag- 
gering troop  of  cut-throats.  Is  it  for  Christ  that  he  hath 
begotten  this  terror  of  our  streets  ?" 

"  Down  with  Baccio  Valori  !"  cried  a  stentorian  voice> 
and  a  dozen  enthusiastic  throats  echoed  the  shout. 

"Ay,  down  with  Baccio  Valori  I"  cried  the  Dominican. 

"  Down  with  Baccio  Valori  I"  repeated  the  ductile  crowd, 
its  holiday  humor  subtly  passing  into  another  form  of  reck- 
lessness. Some  who  loved  the  Friar  \vere  genuinely  worked 
upon,  others  in  mad,  vicious  mood  were  ready  for  any  di- 
version. A  few,  and  these  the  loudest,  were  swashbucklers 
and  cutpurses. 

"Ay,  but  not  Baccio  Valori  alone  !"  thundered  Fra 
Giuseppe.  "Down  with  all  those  bastard  growths  that 
flourish  in  the  capital  of  Christendom.  Down  with  all  that 
hell-spawn,  which  is  the  denial  of  Christ ;  down  with  the 
Pardoner  !  God  is  no  tradesman  that  he  should  chaffer  for 
the  forgiveness  of  sins.  Still  less  —  oh  blasphemy  !  — of 
sins  undone.  Our  Lady  wants  none  of  your  wax  candles. 
It  is  a  white  heart,  it  is  the  flame  of  a  pure  soul  that  the 
Virgin  Mother  asks  for.  Away  with  your  beads  and  mum- 
meries, your  paternosters  and  genuflections  !  Away  with 
your  Carnivals,  your  godless  farewells  to  meat !  Ye  are  all 
foul.  This  is  no  city  of  God,  it  is  a  city  of  hired  bravos 
and  adulterous  abominations  and  gluttonous  feasts,  and  tiie 

GO 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  the  flesh.  Down  with  the 
foul-blooded  Cardinal,  Avho  gossips  at  the  altar,  and  bor- 
rows money  of  the  despised  Jews  for  his  secret  sins  !  Down 
with  the  monk  whose  missal  is  Boccaccio  !  Down  with 
God's  Vicegerent  who  traffics  in  Cardinals'  hats,  who  dare 
not  take  the  Eucharist  without  a  Pretaster,  who  is  all  ab- 
sorbed in  profane  Greek  texts,  in  cunning  jewel-work,  in 
political  manoeuvres  and  domestic  intrigues,  who  comes 
caracoling  in  crimson  and  velvet  upon  his  proud  Neapoli- 
tan barb,  with  his  bareheaded  Cardinals  and  his  hundred 
glittering  horsemen.  He  the  representative  of  the  meek 
Christ  who  rode  upon  an  ass,  and  said,  '  Sell  that  thou  hast 
and  give  to  the  poor,  and  come  follow  me  ' !  Nay,"  and  the 
passion  of  righteousness  tore  his  frame  and  thralled  his 
listeners,  "  though  he  inhabit  the  Vatican,  though  a  hun- 
dred gorgeous  bishops  abase  themselves  to  kiss  his  toe,  yet 
I  proclaim  here  that  he  is  a  lie,  a  snare,  a  whited  sepulchre, 
no  protector  of  the  poor,  no  loving  father  to  the  fatherless, 
no  spiritual  Emperor,  no  Vicar  of  Ciirist,  but  Anti-Christ 
himself." 

'"Down  with  Anti-Christ  I"  yelled  a  pair  of  Corsican  cut- 
throats. 

"Down  with  Anti-Christ !"  roared  the  crowd,  the  long- 
suppressed  hatred  of  the  ruling  power  finding  vent  in  a 
great  wave  of  hysteric  emotion. 

"Captain,  do  thy  duty  !"  cried  the  Judge. 

"Nay,  but  the  Friar  speaks  truth.  Bear  the  old  man 
away,  Alessandro  I" 

"  Is  Rome  demented  ?  Haste  for  the  City  Guards,  Jacopo  I" 

Era  Giuseppe  swiftly  tied  the  pallio  to  his  crucifix,  and, 
waving  the  red  cloth  on  high,  "This  is  the  true  flag  of 
Christ!"  he  cried.  "This,  the  symbol  of  our  brethren's 
martyrdom  !  See,  'tis  the  color  of  the  blood  He  shed  for 
us.     Who  is  for  Jesus,  follow  me  !" 

61 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  For  Christ,  for  Jesns  !  Viva  Gesi'i!"  A  far-rumbling 
thunder  broke  from  the  swaying  mob.  His  own  fire  caught 
extra  flame  from  theirs. 

"'Follow  me  !  This  day  we  will  bear  witness  to  Christ, 
we  will  establish  His  kingdom  in  Rome." 

There  was  a  wild  rush,  the  soldiers  spurred  their  horses, 
people  fell  tinder  their  hoofs,  and  were  trampled  on.  It 
was  a  moment  of  frenzy.  The  Dominican  ran  on,  Avaving 
the  red  pallio,  his  followers  contagiously  swollen  at  every 
by-street.  Unchecked  he  reached  the  great  Piazza,  where 
a  new  statue  of  the  Pope  gleamed  white  and  majestic. 

"  Down  with  Anti-Christ  !"  shouted  a  cutpurse. 

"  Down  with  Anti-Christ !"  echoed  the  mob. 

The  Friar  Avaved  his  hand,  and  there  was  silence.  He 
saw  the  yellow  gleam  of  a  Jew's  head  in  the  crowd,  and 
called  upon  him  to  fling  him  his  cap.  It  was  hurled  from 
hand  to  hand.  Era  Giuseppe  held  it  up  in  the  air.  "  Men 
of  Rome,  Sons  of  Holy  Church,  behold  the  contumelious 
mark  we  set  upon  our  fellow-men,  so  that  every  ruffian 
may  spit  upon  them.  Behold  the  yellow  —  the  color  of 
shame,  the  stigma  of  women  that  traffic  in  their  woman- 
hood— with  which  we  brand  the  venerable  brows  of  rabbis 
and  the  heads  of  honorable  merchants.  Lo  !  I  set  it  upon 
the  head  of  this  Anti-Christ,  a  symbol  of  our  hate  for  all 
that  is  not  Love."  And  raising  himself  on  the  captain's 
stirrup,  he  crowned  the  statue  with  the  yellow  badge. 

A  great  shout  of  derision  rent  the  air.  There  was  a 
multifarious  tumult  of  savage  voices. 

"  Down  with  Anti-Christ !  Down  with  the  Pope  !  Down 
with  Baccio  Valori  !     Down  with  the  Princess  Teresa  !" 

But  in  another  moment  all  was  a  wild  melee.  A  company 
of  City  Guards — pikemen,  musketeers,  and  horsemen  with 
two-handed  swords  dashed  into  the  Piazza  from  one  street, 
the  Pope's  troops  from  another.     They  charged  the  crowd. 

63 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

The  soldiers  of  the  revolting  captain,  revolting  in  their 
turn,  wheeled  round  and  drove  back  their  followers.  There 
was  a  babel  of  groans  and  shrieks  and  shouts,  muskets  rang 
out,  daggers  flashed,  sword  and  pike  rang  against  armor, 
sparks  flew,  smoke  curled,  and  the  mob  broke  and  scurried 
down  the  streets,  leaving  the  wet,  scarlet  ground  strewn 
with  bodies. 

And  long  ere  the  roused  passions  of  the  riffraff  had  as- 
suaged themselves  by  loot  and  outrage  in  the  remoter 
streets,  in  the  darkest  dungeon  of  the  Nona  Tower,  on  a 
piece  of  rotten  mattress,  huddled  in  his  dripping  tinselled 
cloak,  and  bleeding  from  a  dozen  cuts,  Joseph  the  Dreamer 
lay  prostrate,  too  exhausted  from  the  fierce  struggle  with 
his  captors  to  think  on  the  stake  that  awaited  him. 


IX 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  To  give  the  crowd  an  execn- 
tion  was  to  crown  the  Carnival.  Condemned  criminals 
were  often  kept  till  Shrove  Tuesday,  and  keen  was  the  dis- 
appointment when  there  was  only  the  whipping  of  courte- 
sans caught  masked.  The  whipping  of  a  Jew,  found  badge- 
less,  was  the  next  best  thing  to  the  execution  of  a  Christian, 
for  the  flagellator  was  paid  double  (at  the  cost  of  the  cul- 
prit), and  did  not  fail  to  double  his  zeal.  But  the  execu- 
tion of  a  Jew  was  the  best  of  all.  And  that  Fra  Giuseppe 
was  a  Jew  there  could  be  no  doubt.  The  only  question 
was  whetlier  he  was  a  backslider  or  a  spy.  In  either  case 
death  Avas  his  due.  And  he  had  lampooned  the  Pope  to 
boot — in  itself  the  unpardonable  sin.  Tlie  unpopular  Pon- 
tiff sagely  spared  the  others — the  Jew  alone  was  to  die. 

The  population  was  early  astir.  In  the  Piazza  of  the 
People — the  centre  of  the  Carnival — where  the  stake  had 

63 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

been  set  up,  a  great  crowd  fought  for  coigns  of  vantage — 
a  joyous,  good-humored  tussle.  The  great  fountain  sent 
its  flasliing  silver  spirts  towards  a  blue  heaven.  As  the 
death-cart  lumbered  into  the  Piazza  ribald  songs  from  the 
rabble  saluted  the  criminal's  ears,  and  his  wild,  despairing 
eyes  lighted  on  many  a  merry  face  that  but  a  few  hours 
before  had  followed  him  to  testify  to  righteousness  ;  and, 
mixed  with  theirs,  the  faces  of  his  fellow -Jews,  sinister 
with  malicious  glee.  No  brother  friar  droned  consolation 
to  him  or  held  the  cross  to  his  eyes— was  he  not  a  pesti- 
lential infidel,  an  outcast  from  both  worlds  ?  The  chief 
of  the  Caporioni  was  present.  Troops  surrounded  the 
stake  lest,  perchance,  the  madman  might  have  followers 
who  would  yet  attempt  a  rescue.  But  the  precautions 
were  superfluous.  Not  a  face  that  showed  sympathy ;  those 
who,  bewitched  by  the  Friar,  had  followed  his  crucifix  and' 
jjalUo  now  exaggerated  their  jocosity  lest  they  should  be 
recognized;  the  Jews  were  joyous  at  the  heavenly  ven- 
geance which  had  overtaken  the  renegade. 

The  Dominican  Jew  Avas  tied  to  the  timber.  They  had 
dressed  him  in  a  gaberdine  and  set  the  yellow  cap  on  his 
shaven  poll.  Beneath  it  his  face  was  calm,  but  very  sad. 
He  began  to  speak. 

''Gag  him  I"  cried  the  Magistrate.  ''He  is  about  to 
blaspheme." 

"Prithee  not,"  pleaded  a  bully  in  the  crowd.  "We  shall 
lose  the  rascal's  shrieks." 

"Nay,  fear  not.  I  shall  not  blaspheme,"  said  Joseph, 
smiling  mournfully.  "I  do  but  confess  my  sin  and  my 
deserved  punishment.  I  set  out  to  walk  in  the  footsteps 
of  the  Master — to  win  by  love,  to  resist  not  evil.  And  lo, 
I  have  used  force  against  my  old  brethren,  the  Jews,  and 
force  against  my  new  brethren,  the  Christians.  I  have 
urged  the  Pope  against  the  Jews,  I  have  urged  the  Chris- 

64 


JOSEPH    THE    DEEAMEK 

tians  against  the  Pope.  I  have  provoked  bloodshed  and 
outrage.  It  were  better  I  had  never  been  born.  Christ 
receive  me  into  His  infinite  mercy.  May  He  forgive  me 
as  I  forgive  you  !"  He  set  his  teeth  and  spake  no  more, 
an  image  of  infinite  despair. 

The  flames  curled  up.  They  began  to  writhe  about  his 
limbs,  but  drew  no  sound  to  vie  with  their  crackling.  But 
there  was  weeping  heard  in  the  crowd.  And  suddenly 
from  the  unobservedly  overcast  heavens  came  a  flash  of 
lightning  and  a  peal  of  thunder  followed  by  a  violent 
shower  of  rain.  The  flames  were  extinguished.  The  spring 
shower  was  as  brief  as  it  was  violent,  but  the  wood  would 
not  relight. 

But  the  crowd  was  not  thus  to  be  cheated.  At  the  or- 
der of  the  Magistrate  the  executioner  thrust  a  sword  into 
the  criminal's  bowels,  then,  unbinding  the  body,  let  it  fall 
upon  the  ground  with  a  thud :  it  rolled  over  on  its  back, 
and  lay  still  for  a  moment,  the  white,  emaciated  face  star- 
ing at  the  sky.  Then  the  executioner  seized  an  axe  and 
quartered  the  corpse.  Some  sickened  and  turned  away, 
but  the  bulk  remained  gloating. 

Then  a  Franciscan  sprang  on  the  cart,  and  from  the 
bloody  ominous  text  patent  to  all  eyes,  passionately  preach- 
ed Christ  and  dissolved  the  mob  in  tears. 


X 

Iisr  the  house  of  Manasseh,  the  father  of  Joseph,  there 
were  great  rejoicings.  Musicians  had  been  hired  to  cele- 
brate the  death  of  the  renegade  as  tradition  demanded,  and 
all  that  the  Pragmatic  permitted  of  luxury  was  at  hand. 
And  they  danced,  man  with  man  and  woman  with  woman. 
Manasseh  gravely  handed  fruits  and  wine  to  his  guests, 
E  65 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

but  the  old  mother  danced  frenziedly,  a  set  smile  on  her 
wrinkled  face,  her  whole  frame  shaken  from  moment  to 
moment  by  peals  of  horrible  laughter, 

Miriam  fled  from  the  house  to  escape  tliat  laughter. 
She  wandered  outside  the  Ghetto,  and  found  the  spot  of  un- 
consecrated  ground  where  the  mangled  remains  of  Joseph 
the  Dreamer  had  been  hastily  shovelled.  The  heap  of 
stones  thrown  by  pious  Jewish  hands,  to  symbolize  that  by 
Old  Testament  Law  the  renegade  should  have  been  stoned, 
revealed  his  grave.  Great  sobs  swelled  Miriam's  throat. 
Her  eyes  were  blind  with  tears  that  hid  the  beauty  of  the 
world.  Presently  she  became  aware  of  another  boAved  fig- 
ure near  hers — a  stately  female  figure — and  almost  with- 
out looking  knew  it  for  Helena  de'  Franchi. 

"  I,  too,  loved  him,  Signora  de'  Franchi,"  she  said 
simply. 

"Art  thou  Miriam  ?  He  hath  spoken  of  thee."  Hele- 
na's silvery  voice  was  low  and  trembling. 

"Ay,  Signora." 

Helena's  tears  flowed  unrestrainedly.  "Alas  !  Alas  !  the 
Dreamer !  He  should  have  been  happy — happy  with  me, 
happy  in  the  fulness  of  human  love,  in  the  light  of  the 
sun,  in  the  beauty  of  this  fair  world,  in  the  joy  of  art,  in 
the  sweetness  of  music." 

"Xay,  Signora,  he  was  a  Jew.  lie  should  have  been 
happy  with  me,  in  the  light  of  the  Law,  in  the  calm  house- 
hold life  of  prayer  and  study,  of  charity,  and  pity,  and  all 
good  oflices.  I  would  have  lit  the  Sabbath  candles  for  him 
and  set  our  children  on  his  knee  that  he  might  bless  them. 
Alas  !   Alas  !  the  Dreamer  !" 

"  Neither  of  these  fates  was  to  be  his,  Miriam.  Kiss  me, 
let  us  comfort  each  other." 

Their  lips  met  and  their  tears  mingled. 

"Henceforth,  Miriam,  we  are  sisters." 

06 


JOSEPH    THE    DREAMER 

"  Sisters,"  sobbed  Miriam. 

They  clung  to  each  other — the  noble  Pagan  soul  and  the 
warm  Jewish  heart  at  one  over  the  Christian's  grave. 

Suddenly  bells  began  to  ring  in  the  city.  Miriam  started 
and  disengaged  herself. 

"1  must  go,"  she  said  hurriedly. 

"It  is  but  ^I'e  Maria,"  said  Helena.  "Thou  hast  no 
vespers  to  sing." 

Miriam  touched  the  yellow  badge  on  her  head.  "  Nay, 
but  the  gates  will  be  closing,  sister." 

"Alas,  I  had  forgotten.  I  had  thought  we  might  always 
be  together  henceforth.  I  will  accompany  thee  so  far  as 
I  may,  sister. 

They  hastened  from  the  lonely,  unblessed  grave,  hold- 
ing each  other's  hand. 

The  shadows  fell.  It  was  almost  dark  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  Ghetto. 

Miriam  had  barely  slipped  in  when  the  gates  shut  with  a 
harsh  clang,  severing  them  through  the  long  night. 


UKIEL    ACOSTA 


PART  I 
GABRIEL   DA   COSTA 


Gabriel  da  Costa  pricked  his  horse  gently  with  th( 
spur,  and  dashing  down  the  long  avenue  of  cork-trees 
strove  to  forget  the  torment  of  si^iritiial  problems  in  th( 
fury  of  physical  movement,  to  leave  theology  bchinc 
with  the  monasteries  and  chapels  of  Porto.  He  rode  witl 
grace  and  fire,  this  beautiful  youtli  with  the  flashing  eyes 
and  the  dark  hair  flowing  down  the  silken  doublet,  Avhon 
a  poet  might  have  feigned  an  image  of  the  jjassionati 
spring  of  the  South,  but  for  whose  OAvn  soul  the  warm  bhn 
sky  of  Portugal,  the  white  of  the  almond  blossoms,  tli( 
pink  of  the  peach  sprays,  the  delicate  odors  of  buds,  anc 
the  glad  clamor  of  birds  made  only  a  vague  background  t( 
a  whirl  of  thoughts. 

Xo ;  it  was  impossible  to  believe  that  by  confessing  hi. 
sins  as  the  Church  prescribed  he  could  obtain  a  plenar; 
absolution.  If  salvation  was  to  be  sccnred  only  by  partic 
ular  rules,  why,  then,  one  might  despair  of  salvation  alto 
gether.     And,  perhaps,  eternal  damnation  was  indeed  hi 

68 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

destiny,  were  it  only  for  his  doubts,  and  in  despite  of 
all  his  punctilious  mechanical  worship.  Oh,  for  a  deliv- 
erer—  a  deliverer  from  the  questionings  that  made  the 
splendid  gloom  of  cathedrals  a  darkness  for  the  captive 
spirit !  Those  cursed  Jesuits,  zealous  with  the  zealotry  of 
a  new  order  !  His  blood  flamed  as  he  thought  of  their 
manceuvrings,  and  putting  his  hand  to  his  holster,  Avhere 
hung  a  pair  of  silver-mounted  pistols  marked  with  his  ini^ 
tial,  he  drew  out  one  and  took  flying  aim  at  a  bird  on  a 
twig,  pleasing  himself  with  the  foolish  fancy  that  'twas 
Ignatius  Loyola,  But  though  a  sure  marksman,  he  had 
not  the  heart  to  hurt  any  living  thing,  and  changing  with 
the  SAviftness  of  a  flash  he  shot  at  the  twig  instead,  snap- 
ping it  off- 
Why  had  his  dead  father  set  him  to  study  ecclesiastical 
law  ?  True,  for  a  wealthy  youth  of  the  upper  middle  classes 
'twas  the  one  road  to  distinction,  to  social  equality  with 
the  nobility — and  whose  fault  but  his  own  that  even  after 
the  first  stirrings  of  scepticism  he  had  accepted  semi- 
sacerdotal  office  as  chief  treasurer  of  a  clerical  college  ? 
But  how  should  he  foresee  that  these  uneasinesses  of  youth 
would  be  aggravated  rather  than  appeased  by  deeper  study, 
more  passionate  devotion  ?  Strange  !  All  around  him, 
in  college  or  cathedral,  was  faith  and  peace  ;  in  his  spirit 
alone  a  secret  disquiet  and  a  suppressed  ferment  that  not 
all  the  soaring  music  of  fresh-voiced  boys  could  soothe  or 
allay. 

He  felt  his  horse  slacken  suddenly  under  him,  and  had 
used  his  spurs  viciously  without  effect,  ere  he  became  con- 
scious that  he  had  come  to  the  steep,  clayey  bank  of  a 
ravine  through  which  a  tiny  stream  trickled,  and  that  the 
animal's  flanks  were  stained  with  blood.  Instantly  his  eyes 
grew  humid. 

'' Pobre!"  he  cried,  leaping  from  the  saddle  and  caressing 

69 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  horse's  nostrils.  "To  be  shamed  before  men  have  I 
always  dreaded,  but  'tis  worse  to  be  shamed  before  my- 
self." 

And  leading  his  steed  by  the  bridle,  the  young  cavalier 
turned  back  towards  Porto  by  Avinding  grassy  paths  pur- 
pled with  anemones  and  bordered  by  gray  olive-trees,  Avith 
here  and  there  the  vivid  gleam  of  oranges  i:)eeping  amid 
deep  green  foliage  that  tore  the  sky  into  a  thousand  azure 
patches. 

II 

He  remounted  his  horse  as  he  approached  the  market- 
place, from  which  the  town  climbed  up ;  but  he  found  his 
way  blocked,  for  'twas  market-day,  and  the  great  square, 
bordered  with  a  colonnade  that  made  an  Eastern  bazaar, 
was  thickly  planted  with  stalls,  whose  white  canvas  awn- 
ings struck  a  delicious  note  of  coolness  against  the  throb- 
bing blue  sky  and  the  flaming  costumes  of  the  peasants 
come  up  from  the  environs.  Through  a  corner  of  the 
pi'ciQa  one  saw  poplars  and  elms  and  the  fresh  gleam  of  the 
river.  The  nasal  hum  of  many  voices  sounded  blithe  and 
busy.  At  the  bazaar  entrance,  where  old  women  vended 
flowers  and  fruit,  Gabriel  reined  in  his  horse. 

"How  happy  these  simple  souls!"  he  mused.  "How 
sure  of  their  salvation  I  To  count  their  beads  and  mutter 
their  Ave  Marias;  'tis  all  they  need.  Yon  fisher,  with  his 
great  gold  ear-rings,  who  throws  his  nets  and  cuddles  his 
Juanita  and  carouses  with  his  mates,  hath  more  to  thank 
the  saints  for  than  miserable  I,  who,  blessed  with  wealth, 
am  cursed  with  loneliness,  and  loving  my  fellow-men,  yet 
know  they  are  but  sheep.  God's  sheep,  natheless,  silly 
and  deaf  to  the  cry  of  their  true  shepherd,  and  misled  by 
priestly  wolves." 

70 


UKIELA  COSTA 

A  cripi^le  interrupted  his  reflections  by  a  whining  appeal. 
Gabriel  shuddered  with  pity  at  the  sight  of  his  sores,  and, 
giving  him  a  piece  of  silver,  lost  himself  in  a  new  reverie 
on  the  mystery  of  snlfcring. 

'^  Thine  herbs  sold  out  too  !"  cheerily  grumbled  a  well- 
known  voice,  and,  turning  his  head,  Gabriel  saw  that 
the  burly  old  gentleman  addressing  the  wrinkled  market- 
woman  from  the  vantage-point  of  a  mule's  back  was,  in- 
deed, Dom  Diego  de  Balthasar,  late  professor  of  the  logics 
at  the  University  of  Coimbra,  and  newly  settled  in  Porto 
as  a  physician. 

"Ay,  indeed,  ere  noon  !"  the  dried-up  old  dame  mum- 
bled. "All  Porto  seems  hungry  for  bitter  herbs  to-day. 
But  thus  it  happens  sometimes  about  Eastertide,  though  I 
love  not  such  salads  myself." 

"  Naturally.  They  are  good  for  the  blood,"  laughed 
Dom  Diego,  as  his  eye  caught  Gabriel's.  "And  thou  hast 
none,  good  dame." 

Tliere  seemed  almost  a  wink  in  the  professorial  eye,  and 
the  young  horseman  smiled  in  good-natured  response  to 
the  physician's  estimate  of  the  jest. 

"  Then  are  the  eaters  sensible,"  he  said. 

"Ay,  the  only  sensible  people  in  Portugal,"  rejoined 
Dom  Diego,  changing  his  speech  to  Latin,  but  retaining 
his  smile.  "And  the  only  good  blood,  Da  Costa,"  he 
added,  with  what  was  now  an  unmistakable  wink.  But 
this  time  Gabriel  failed  to  see  the  point. 

"The  only  good  blood?"  he  repeated.  "Dost  thou 
then  hold  with  the  Trappists  that  meat  is  an  evil  ?" 

A  strange,  startled  look  flashed  across  the  physician's 
face,  sweeping  off  its  ruddy  hue,  and  though  his  smile  re- 
turned on  the  instant,  it  was  as  though  forced  back. 

"In  a  measure,"  he  replied.  "Too  much  flesh  gen- 
eratcth  humors  and  distempers  in  the  blood.     Hence  Holy 

71 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Church  hath  ordaiued  Lent.  She  is  no  friend  to  us  phy- 
sicians. Adeos  r  and  he  ambled  off  on  his  mule,  waving 
the  young  horseman  a  laughing  farewell. 

But  Gabriel,  skirting  the  market,  rode  up  the  steep 
streets  troubled  by  a  vague  sense  of  a  mystery,  and  later 
repeated  the  conversation  to  a  friar  at  the  college. 


Ill 

A  WEEK  later  he  heard  in  the  town  that  Dom  Diego  de 
Balthasar  had  been  arrested  by  the  Inquisition  for  Judaism. 
The  news  brought  him  a  more  complex  thrill  than  that 
shock  of  horror  at  the  treacherous  persistence  of  a  pestilent 
heresy  which  it  excited  in  the  breast  of  his  fellow-citizens. 
He  recalled  to  mind  now  that  tiiere  were  thirty-four  traces 
by  which  the  bloodhounds  of  the  Holy  Office  scented  out 
the  secret  Jew,  and  that  oneof  the  tests  ran  :  "If  he  cele- 
brates the  Passover  by  eating  bitter  herbs  and  lettuces." 
But  the  shudder  which  the  thought  of  the  Jew  had  once 
caused  him  was,  to  his  own  surprise,  replaced  by  a  secret 
sympathy.  In  his  slowly-matured,  self-evolved  scepticism, 
he  had  forgotten  that  a  whole  race  had  remained  Protes- 
tant from  the  first,  rejecting  at  any  and  every  cost  the 
corner-stone  of  the  Christian  scheme.  And  this  race — he 
remembered  suddenly  with  a  leap  of  the  heart  and  a 
strange  tingling  of  the  blood — had  once  been  his  own  ! 
The  knowledge  that  had  lurked  in  the  background  of  con- 
sciousness, like  the  exiled  memory  of  an  ancient  shame, 
sprang  up,  strong  and  assertive.  The  far-off  shadowy 
figures  of  those  base-born  ancestors  of  his  who  had  prayed 
in  the  ancient  synagogues  in  the  days  before  the  Great 
Explusioii,  shook  off  the  mists  of  a  hundred  years  and 
stood  forth  solid,  lieroic,  appealing. 

72 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

And  then  recalling  the  dearth  of  bitter  herbs  in  the 
market-place  on  what  he  now  understood  was  the  eve  of 
Passover,  he  had  a  sudden  intuition  of  a  great  secret 
brotherhood  of  the  synagogue  ramifying  beneath  all  the 
outward  life  of  Church  and  State;  of  a  society  honey- 
combed with  Judaism  that  persisted  tenaciously  and 
eternally  though  persecution  and  expulsion,  not  in  stray 
units,  such  as  the  Inquisition  ferreted  out,  but  in  ineradi- 
cable communities.  It  was  because  the  incautious  physi- 
cian had  mistaken  him  for  a  member  of  the  brotherhood 
of  Israel  that  he  had  ventured  upon  his  now  transparent 
jests.  "  Good  God  !"  thought  Da  Costa,  sickening  as  he 
remembered  the  auto-da-fe  he  had  seen  at  Lisbon  in  his 
boyhood,  when  De  la  Asungao,  the  Franciscan  Jew  monk, 
clothed  in  the  Sanbenito,  was  solemnly  burnt  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  king,  the  queen,  the  court,  and  the  mob. 
"  What  if  'twas  my  tale  to  Frei  Jose  that  led  to  Dom 
Diego's  arrest  I  But  no,  that  were  surely  evidence  too 
trivial,  and  ambiguous  at  the  best."  And  he  put  the  pain- 
ful suspicion  aside  and  hastened  to  shut  himself  up  in  his 
study,  sending  down  an  excuse  to  his  mother  and  brother 
by  Pedro,  the  black  slave-boy. 

In  the  beautiful  house  on  the  hilltop,  built  by  Gabriel's 
grandfather,  and  adorned  with  fine  panelings  and  mosaics 
of  many-colored  woods  from  the  Brazils,  this  study,  se- 
cluded by  its  position  at  the  head  of  the  noble  staircase, 
was  not  the  least  beautiful  room.  The  floor  and  the  walls 
were  of  rich-hued  tiles,  the  arched  ceiling  was  ribbed  with 
polished  woods  to  look  like  the  scooped-out  interior  of  a 
half-orange.  Costly  hangings  muffled  the  noise  of  the 
outer  world,  and  large  shutters  excluded,  when  necessary, 
the  glare  of  the  sun.  The  rays  of  Eeason  alone  could  not 
be  shut  out,  and  in  this  haunt  of  peace  the  young  Catholic 
had  known  his  bitterest  hours  of  unrest.     Here  ho  now 

73 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

cast  himself  feverishly  upon  the  perusal  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, neglected  by  him,  as  by  the  Church. 

"This  book,  at  least,  must  be  true,"  ran  his  tumultuous 
thoughts.  "For  this  Testament  do  both  creeds  revere 
that  wrangle  over  the  later."  He  had  a  Latin  text,  and 
first  he  turned  to  the  fifty-third  chapter  of  Isaiah,  and, 
reading  it  critically,  he  seemed  to  see  that  all  these  pas- 
sages of  prediction  he  had  taken  on  trust  as  prognostica- 
tions of  a  Redeemer  might  prophesy  quite  other  and  more 
intelligible  things.  And  long '  past  midnight  he  read 
among  the  Prophets,  with  flushed  cheek  and  sparkling  eye, 
as  one  drunk  with  new  Avine.  What  sublime  truths,  what 
aspirations  after  peace  and  justice,  what  trumpet-calls  to 
righteousness  ! 

He  thrilled  to'the  cry  of  Amos  :  "Take  thou  away  from 
me  the  noise  of  thy  songs,  for  I  Avill  not  hear  the  melody 
of  thy  viols.  But  let  judgment  run  down  as  waters,  and 
righteousness  as  a  mighty  stream."  And  to  the  question 
of  Micah  :  "AVhat  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee  but  to  do 
justly  and  to  love  mercy  and  to  walk  humbly  Avith  thy 
God?"  Ay,  justice  and  mercy  and  humbleness  —  not 
paternosters  and  penances.  He  Avas  melted  to  tears,  he 
was  exalted  to  the  stars. 

He  turned  to  the  Pentateuch  and  to  the  Laws  of  Moses, 
to  the  tender  ordinances  for  the  poor,  the  stranger,  the 
beast.  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. "  "  Thou 
shalt  be  unto  me  a  holy  people." 

AVhy  had  his  ancestors  cut  themselves  off  froui  this  great 
people,  Avhose  creed  Avas  once  so  sublime  and  so  simple  ? 
There  had  reached  doAvn  to  him  some  vague  sense  of  the 
nameless  tragedies  of  the  Great  Expulsion  Avlien  these 
stiff-necked  heretics  were  confronted  Avith  the  choice  of 
expatriation  or  conversion ;  but  now  he  searched  his 
book-shelves  eagerly  for  some  chronicle  of  those  days  of 

74 


URIELACOSTA 

Torqnemada,  The  native  historians  had  little,  but  that 
little  filled  his  imagination  with  horrid  images  of  that 
second  Exodus — famine,  the  plague,  robbery,  slaughter, 
the  violation  of  virgins. 

And  all  on  account  of  the  pertinacious  ambition  of  a 
Portuguese  king  to  rule  Spain  through  an  alliance  with  a 
Spanish  princess — an  ambition  as  pertinaciously  foiled  by 
the  irony  of  history.  No,  they  were  not  without  excuse, 
those  ancestors  of  his  who  had  been  left  behind  clinging 
to  the  Church.  Could  they  have  been  genuine  converts, 
these  Marranos,  or  New  Christians  ?  he  asked  himself. 
Well,  whatever  his  great-grandfathers  had  felt,  his  father's 
faith  had  been  ardent  enough,  of  that  he  could  not  doubt. 
He  recalled  the  long  years  of  ritual ;  childish  memories  of 
paternal  pieties.  No,  the  secret  conspiracy  had  not  em- 
braced the  Da  Costa  household.  And  he  would  fain  be- 
lieve that  his  more  distant  progenitors,  too,  had  not  been 
hypocrites  ;  for  aught  he  knew  they  had  gone  over  to  the 
Church  even  before  the  Expulsion  ;  at  any  rate  he  was 
glad  to  have  no  evidence  for  an  ancestry  of  deceit.  None 
of  the  Da  Costas  had  been  cowards,  thank  Heaven  !  And 
he — he  was  no  coward,  he  told  himself. 


IV 

In  the  morning,  though  only  a  few  hours  of  sleep  had 
intervened,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  night  had  somewhat  sub- 
sided. "'  Whence  came  the  inspiration  of  Moses  ?"  flew  up 
to  his  mind  almost  as  soon  as  he  opened  his  eyes  on  the 
sunlit  world.  He  threw  open  the  protrusive  casement  of 
his  bedroom  to  the  balmy  air,  tinged  with  a  whiff  of  salt, 
and  gazed  pensively  at  the  white  town  rambling  down 
towards  the  shining  river.    Had  God  indeed  revealed  Him- 

75 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

self  on  Mount  Sinai  ?  But  this  fresh  douht  was  banished 
by  the  renewed  suspicion  which,  after  having  disturbed  his 
dreams  in  nebulous  distortions,  sprang  up  in  daylight  clear- 
ness. It  Avas  his  babbling  about  Dom  Diego  that  had  ruined 
the  genial  old  physician.  After  days  of  gathering  uneasi- 
ness, being  unable  to  gain  any  satisfaction  from  the  friar, 
he  sought  the  secretary  of  the  Inquisition  in  his  bureau  at 
a  monastery  of  the  Dominicans.  The  secretary  rubbed  his 
hands  at  the  sight  of  the  speechful  face.  "Aha  !  What 
new  foxes  hast  thou  scented  ?"  The  greeting  stung  like  a 
stab. 

"None,"  he  replied,  with  a  tremor  in  his  speech  and  in 
his*limbs.  "I  did  but  desire  to  learn  if  I  am  to  blame  for 
Dom  Diego's  arrest." 

"  To  blame  ?"  and  the  secretary  looked  askance  at  him. 
"Say,  rather,  to  praise." 

"  Nay,  to  blame,"  repeated  Gabriel  staunchly.  "  May- 
hap I  mistook  or  misrendered  his  conversation.  'Tis  scant 
evidence  to  imj^rison  a  man  on.  I  trust  ye  have  found 
more." 

"Ay,  thou  didst  but  set  Frei  Jose  on  the  track.  We 
did  not  even  trouble  thee  to  appear  before  the  Qualifiers." 

"And  he  is,  indeed,  a  Jew  !" 

"A  Hebrew  of  Hebrews,  by  his  stiff -neckedness.  But 
'twas  not  quite  proven ;  the  fox  is  a  cunning  beast.  Al- 
ready he  hath  had  the  three  'first  audiences,'  but  he  will 
not  confess  and  be  made  a  Penitent.  This  morning  we  try 
other  means." 

"Torture?"  said  Gabriel,  paling.    The  secretary  nodded. 

"But  if  he  is  innocent." 

"No  fear  of  that;  iie  will  confess  at  the  first  twinge. 
Come,  unknit  thy  brow.  Wouldst  nuike  sure  thou  hast 
served  Heaven  ?  Thou  shalt  hear  his  confession — as  a  re- 
ward for  thy  zeal." 

76 


UKIEL    ACOSTA 

^'He  will  deem  I  have  come  to  gloat." 

*'Here  is  a  mask  for  thee." 

*'  Gabriel  took  it  hesitatingly,  repelled,  but  more  strong- 
ly fascinated,  and  after  a  feverish  half-hour  of  waiting  he 
found  himself  with  the  secretary,  the  judge  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion, the  surgeon,  and  another  masked  man  in  an  under- 
ground vault  faintly  lit  by  hanging  lamps.  On  one  side 
were  the  massive  doors  studded  with  rusty  knobs,  of  air- 
less cells ;  on  the  rough,  spider-webbed  wall  opposite,  against 
which  leaned  an  iron  ladder,  were  fixed  iron  rings  at  vary- 
ing heights.  A  thumbscrew  stood  in  the  corner,  and  in 
the  centre  was  a  small  writing-table,  at  which  the  judge 
seated  himself. 

The  secretary  unlocked  a  dungeon  door,  and  through 
the  holes  of  his  mask  Gabriel  had  a  glimpse  of  the  despond- 
ent figure  of  the  burly  physician  crouching  in  a  cell  nigh 
too  narrow  for  turning  room. 

*"  Stand  forth,  Dom  Abraham  de  Balthasar  !"  said  the 
judge,  ostentatiously  referring  to  a  paper. 

The  physician  blinked  his  eyes  at  the  increased  light, 
but  did  not  budge. 

"My  name  is  Dom'Diego,"  he  said. 

"Thy  baptismal  name  imports  no  more  to  us  than  to 
thee.  Perchance  I  should  have  said  Dom  Isaac.  Stand 
forth  !" 

The  physician  straightened  himself  sullenly.  "  A  pretty 
treatment  for  a  loyal  son  of  Holy  Church  who  hath  served 
his  Most  Faithful  and  Catholic  Sovereign  at  the  Universi- 
ty," he  grumbled.  "  AVho  accuses  me  of  Judaism  ?  Con- 
front me  with  the  rogue  !" 

"^Tis  against  our  law,"  said  the  secretary. 

"Let  me  hear  the  specific  charges.  Read  me  the 
counts." 

"In  the  audience-chamber.     Anon." 

77 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'  Confess  I  confess  I"  snapped  the  judge  testily. 

"To  confess  needs  a  sin.  I  have  none  but  those  I  have 
told  the  priest.  But  I  know  my  accuser — 'tis  Gabriel  da 
Costa,  a  sober  and  studious  young  senhor  Avith  no  ear  for 
a  jest,  who  did  not  understand  that  I  was  rallying  the 
market  -  woman  upon  the  clearance  of  her  stock  by  these 
stinking  heretics.  I  am  no  more  a  Jew  than  Da  Costa 
himself."  But  even  as  he  spoke,  Gabriel  knew  that  they 
were  brother-Jews — he  and  the  prisoner. 

*'Thou  hypocrite  !"  he  cried  involuntarily. 

"  Ha  !"  said  the  secretary,  his  eye  beaming  triumph. 

''This  persistent  denial  will  avail  thee  naught,"  said  the 
judge,  '''twill  only  bring  thee  torture." 

"  Torture  an  innocent  man  !  'Tis  monstrous  !"  the  phy- 
sician protested.  "Any  tyro  in  the  logics  will  tell  thee 
that  the  onus  of  proving  lies  with  the  accuser." 

"Tush!  tush!  This  is  no  University.  Executioner,  do 
thy  work." 

The  other  masked  man  seized  the  old  physician  and 
stripped  him  to  the  skin. 

"  Confess  !"  said  the  judge  warningly. 

"  If  I  confessed  I  was  a  Jew,  I  should  be  doubly  a  bad 
Christian,  inasmuch  as  I  should  be  lying." 

"None  of  thy  metaphysical  quibbles.  If  thou  expirest 
under  the  torture  (let  the  secretary  take  note),  thy  death 
shall  not  be  laid  at  the  door  of  the  Holy  Office,  but  of  thine 
own  obstinacy." 

"  Christ  will  avenge  His  martyrs,"  said  Dom  Diego,  with 
so  sublime  a  mien  that  Gabriel  doubted  whether,  after  all, 
instinct  had  not  riiisled  him. 

The  judge  made  an  impatient  sign,  and  the  masked  man 
tied  the  victim's  hands  and  feet  together  with  a  thick  cord, 
and  winding  it  around  the  breast,  placed  the  iumched, 
nude  figure  upon  a  stool,  while  he  passed  the  ends  of  the 

78 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

cord  through  two  of  the  iron  rings  in  the  wall.  Then, 
kicking  away  the  stool,  he  left  the  victim  suspended  in  air 
by  cords  that  cut  into  his  flesh. 

"Confess  !"  said  the  judge. 

But  Dom  Diego  set  his  teeth.  The  executioner  drew 
the  cords  tighter  and  tighter,  till  the  blood  burst  from  un- 
der his  victim's  nails,  and  ever  and  anon  he  let  the  sharp- 
staved  iron  ladder  fall  against  his  naked  shins. 

"  0  Sancta  Maria  !"  groaned  the  physician  at  length. 

"These  be  but  the  beginning  of  thy  tortures,  an  thou 
confessest^iot,"  said  the  judge,     "  Draw  tighter." 

"Nay,"  here  interrupted  the  surgeon.  "  Another  draw 
and  he  may  expire." 

Another  tightening,  and  Gabriel  da  Costa  would  have 
fainted.  Deadly  pale  beneath  his  mask,  he  felt  sick  and 
trembling — the  cords  seemed  to  be  cutting  into  his  own 
flesh.  His  heart  was  equally  hot  against  the  torturers  and 
the  tortured,  and  he  admired  the  physician's  courage  even 
Avhile  he  abhorred  his  cowardice.  And  while  the  surgeon 
was  busying  himself  to  mend  the  victim  for  new  tortures, 
Gabriel  da  Costa  had  a  shuddering  perception  of  the  trag- 
edy of  Israel — sublime  and  sordid. 


'  It  was  with  equally  mingled  feelings,  complicated  by  aston- 
ishment, that  he  learned  a  week  or  so  later  that  Dom  Diego 
had  been  acquitted  of  Judaism  and  set  free.  Impulse  drove 
him  to  seek  speech  with  the  sufferer.  He  crossed  the  river 
to  the  physician's  house,  but  only  by  extreme  insistence 
did, he  procure  access  to  the  high  vaulted  room  in  which 
the  old  man  lay  abed,  surrounded  by  huge  tomes  on  pillow 
and  counterpane,  and  overbrooded  by  an  image  of  the  Christ, 

79 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*' Pardon  that  I  have  been  reluctant  to  go  back  without 
a  sight  of  tliee,"  said  Gabriel.  "  My  anxiety  to  see  how 
thou  farest  after  thy  mauling  by  the  hell-hounds  must  be 
my  excuse." 

Dom  Diego  cast  ujion  him  a  look  of  surprise  and  suspi- 
cion. 

"  The  hounds  may  follow  a  wrong  scent ;  but  they  are 
of  heaven,  not  hell,"  he  said  rebukingly.  "If  I  suffered 
wrongly,  'tis  Christian  to  suffer,  and  Christian  to  forgive." 

"  Then  forgive  me,"  said  Gabriel,  mazed  by  this  persist- 
ent masquerading,  "for  'twas  I  who  innocently ^nade  thee 
suffer.  Rather  would  I  have  torn  out  my  tongue  than  in- 
jured a  fellow  Jew." 

"I  am  no  Jew,"  cried  the  physician  fiercely. 

"  But  why  deny  it  to  me  when  I  tell  thee  I  am  one  ?" 

"  *In  vain  is  the  net  spread  in  the  sight  of  any  bird,'" 
quoted  Dom  Diego  angrily.  "Thou  art  as  good  a  Chris- 
tian as  I, — and  a  worse  fowler.  A  Jew,  indeed,  who  knows 
not  of  the  herbs  !  Nay,  the  bird-lime  is  smeared  too  thick, 
and  there  is  no  cord  between  the  holes  of  the  net." 

"True,  I  am  neither  Jew  nor  Christian,"  said  the  young 
man  sadly..  "I  was  bred  a  Christian,  but  my  soul  is  torn 
with  questionings.     See,  I  trust  my  life  in  thy  hand." 

But  Dom  Diego  remained  long  obdurate,  even  when 
Gabriel  made  the  candid  admission  that  he  was  the  masked 
man  who  had  cried  "Hypocrite!"  in  the  tovture  -  vault ; 
'twas  not  till,  limping  from  the  bed,  he  had  satisfied  him- 
self that  the  young  iiuxn  had  posted  no  auditors  without, 
that  he  said  at  last :  "  Well,  'tis  my  word  against  thine. 
Mayhap  I  am  but  feigning  so  as  to  draw  thee  out."  Then, 
winking,  he  took  down  the  effigy  of  the  Christ  and  thrust 
it  into  a  drawer,  and  filling  two  wine-glasses  from  a  de- 
canter that  stood  at  the  bedside,  lie  cried  jovially,  "Come ! 
Confusion  to  the  Holy  Office  !" 

«0 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

A  great  weight  seemed  lifted  off  the  young  man's  breast. 
He  smiled  as  he  quaffed  the  rich  wine. 

''Meseems  thou  hast  already  wrought  confusion  to  the 
Holy  Office." 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  physician,  expanding  in  the 
glow  of  the  wine.  ''Yea,  the  fox  hath  escaped  from  the 
trap,  but  not  with  a  whole  skin." 

"No,  alas  !     How  feel  thy  wounds  ?" 

"I  meant  not  my  corporeal  skin,"  said  the  physician, 
though  he  rubbed  it  with  rueful  recollection.  "I  meant 
the  skin  whereof  my  purse  was  made.  To  prove  my  loy- 
alty to  Holy  Church  I  offered  her  half  my  estate,  and  the 
proof  was  accepted.  "Twas  the  surgeon  of  the  Inquisition 
who  gave  me  the  hint.     He  is  one  of  us  !" 

"What!  a  Jew!"  cried  Gabriel,  thunderstruck. 

"  Hush  !  hush  !  or  we  shall  have  him  replaced  by  an  en- 
emy. 'Twas  his  fellow-feeling  to  me,  both  as  a  brother  and 
a  medicus,  that  made  him  declare  me  on  the  point  of  death 
when  I  was  still  as  lusty  as  a  false  credo.  For  the  rest,  I 
had  sufficient  science  to  hold  in  my  breath  while  the  clown 
tied  me  with  cords,  else  had  I  been  too  straitened  to 
breathe.  But  thou  needest  a  biscuit  with  thy  wine, 
lanthe !" 

A  pretty  little  girl  stepped  in  from  an  adjoining  room, 
her  dark  eyes  drooping  shyly  at  the  sight  of  the  stranger. 

"  Thou  seest  I  have  a  witness  against  thee,"  laughed  the 
physician  ;  "while  the  evidence  against  me  which  the  fools 
could  not  find  we  Avill  eat  up.  The  remainder  of  the  Mot- 
sas,  daughterling  !"  And  drawing  a  key  from  under  his 
pillow,  he  handed  it  to  her.  "  Soft,  now,  my  little  one, 
and  hide  them  well." 

AVhen  the  child  had  gone,  the  father  grumbled,  over  an- 
other glass  of  wine,  at  having  to  train  her  to  a  double  life. 
"But  it  sharpens  the  wits,"  said  he.  "lanthe  should 
F  81 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

grow  up  subtle  as  the  secret  cupboard  witliin  a  cupboard 
Avhich  she  is  now  opening.  But  a  woman  scarcely  needs 
the  training."  He  was  yet  laughing  over  his  jape  when 
lanthe  returned,  and  produced  from  under  a  napkin  some 
large,  thick  biscuits,  peculiarly  reticulated.  Gabriel  looked 
at  them  curiously. 

"  Knowest  thou  not  Passover  cakes  ?"  asked  Dom  Diego. 

Gabriel  shook  his  head. 

''Thou  hast  never  eaten  unleavened  bread  ?" 

"Unleavened  bread!  Ah,  I  was  reading  thereof  in  the 
Pentateuch  but  yesterday.  Stay,  is  it  not  one  of  the  Inqui- 
sition's tests  ?     But  I  figured  it  not  thus." 

"'Tis  the  immemorial  pattern,  smuggled  in  from  Am- 
sterdam," said  the  wine -flushed  physician,  throwing  cau- 
tion to  the  winds.  "  Taste  !  'Tis  more  palatable  than  the 
Host." 

"Is  Amsterdam,  then,  a  Jewish  town  ?" 

"  Nay,  but  'tis  the  Jerusalem  of  the  "West.  Little  Hol- 
land, since  she  shook  off  Papistry,  hath  no  persecuting 
polity  like  the  other  nations.  And  natural  enough,  for  'tis 
more  a  ship  than  a  country.  Half  my  old  friends  have 
drifted  thither  —  'tis  a  sad  drain  for  our  old  Portuguese 
community." 

Gabriel's  bosom  throbbed.     "Tiien  why  not  join  them?" 

The  old  johysician  shook  his  head.  "Nay,  I  love  my 
Portugal.  'Tis  here  that  I  Avas  born,  and  here  will  I  die. 
I  love  her — her  mountains,  her  rivers,  her  valleys,  her  me- 
dicinal springs — always  love  Portugal,  lanthe — " 

"Yes,  father,"  said  the  little  girl  gravely. 

"And,  oh,  her  poets  —  her  Rubeiro,  her  Falcuo,  her 
Camocns  —  my  own  grandfather  was  thought  worthy  of  a 
place  in  the  '  Cancioneiro  Geral';  and  1  too  have  made 
a  Portuguese  poem  on  the  first  aphorism  of  Hippocrates, 
though  'tis  yet  in  manuscript." 

82 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

''  But  if  thou  darest  not  j^rofess  thy  faith,"  said  Gabriel, 
"  'tis  more  than  ail  the  rest.  To  live  a  daily  lie — intoler- 
able !" 

'*  Hoity-toity  !  Thou  art  young  and  headstrong.  The 
Catholic  religion  !  'Tis  no  more  than  fine  manners  ;  as 
we  say  in  Hebrew,  derecli  eretz,  the  way  of  the  country. 
AVliy  do  I  Avear  breeches  and  a  cocked  hat — when  I  am 
abroad,  videlicet?  Why  does  little  lanthe  trip  it  in  a  joet- 
ticoat  ?" 

*'  Because  I  am  a  girl,''  said  lanthe. 

Dom  Diego  laughed.  "  There's  the  question  rhetorical, 
my  little  one,  and  the  question  interrogative.  However, 
we'll  not  puzzle  thee  with  Quintilian.  Run  away  to  thy 
lute.  And  so  it  is,  Senhor  da  Costa.  I  love  my  Judaism 
more  than  my  Portugal  ;  but  while  I  can  keep  both  my 
mistresses  at  the  cost  of  a  little  finesse — " 

"But  the  danger  of  being  burnt  alive  !" 

*"Tis  like  hell  to  the  Christian  sinner — dim  and  dis- 
tant." 

"  Thou  hast  been  singed,  methinks." 

"Like  a  blasted  tree.  The  lightning  will  not  strike 
twice.  Help  thyself  to  more  Avine.  Besides,  my  stomach 
likes  not  the  Biscay  Bay.     God  made  us  for  land  animals." 

But  Gabriel  was  not  to  be  won  over  to  the  worthy  phy- 
sician's view,  and  only  half  to  the  man  himself.  Yet  Avas 
not  this  his  last  visit,  for  he  clung  to  Dom  Diego  as  to  the 
only  JcAV  he  kncAV,  and  borrowed  from  him  a  Hebrew  Bible 
and  a  grammar,  and  began  secretly  to  acquire  the  sacred 
tongue,  bringing  toys  and  floAvers  to  the  little  lanthe,  and 
once  a  costlier  lute  than  her  OAvn,  in  return  for  her  father's 
help  Avith  the  idioms.  Also  he  borroAved  some  of  Dom 
Diego's  oAvn  Avorks,  issued  anonymously  from  the  printing 
presses  of  Amsterdam;  and  from  liis  new  friend's  "Para- 
disc  of  Earthly  Vanity,"  and  other  oddly  entitled  volumes 

83 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

of  controversuil  theology,  the  young  enthusiast  sucked  in- 
struction and  confirmation  of  his  doubts.  To  Dom  Diego's 
Portuguese  fellow-citizens  the  old  gentleman  Avas  the  au- 
thor of  an  erudite  essay  on  the  treatment  of  phthisis,  em- 
phatically denouncing  the  implicit  reliance  on  milk. 

But  Gabriel  could  not  imitate  this  comfortable  self -ad- 
justment to  surroundings.  'Twas  but  a  half  fight  for  the 
Truth,  he  felt,  and  ceased  to  cultivate  the  semi-recreant 
physician.  For  as  he  grew  more  and  more  in  love  with  the 
Old  Testament,  with  its  simple  doctrine  of  a  people,  chosen 
and  consecrate,  so  grew  his  sense  of  far-reaching  destinies, 
of  a  linked  race  sprung  from  the  mysterious  East  and  the 
dawn  of  history,  defying  destruction  and  surviving  perse- 
cution, agonizing  for  its  faith  and  its  unfaith — a  concep- 
tion that  touched  the  springs  of  romance  and  the  source 
of  tears — and  his  vision  turned  longingly  towards  Amster- 
dam, that  city  of  the  saints,  the  home  of  the  true  faith, 
of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  and  the  fatherhood  of  God. 


VI 

"  Mother,"  said  Gabriel,  '•'  I  have  something  to  say  to 
thee."  They  were  in  the  half-orange  room,  and  she  had 
looked  in  to  give  her  good -night  kiss  to  the  lonely  stu- 
dent, but  his  words  arrested  her  at  the  door.  She  sat  down 
and  gazed  lovingly  at  her  handsome  eldest-born,  in  whom 
her  dead  husband  lived  as  in  his  prime.  ""Twill  be  of 
Isabella,"  she  thought,  with  a  stir  in  her  breast,  rejoiced 
to  think  that  the  brooding  eyes  of  the  scholar  had  opened 
at  last  to  the  beauty  and  goodness  of  the  highborn  heiress 
who  loved  him. 

"\Mother,  I  have  made  a  great  resolution,  and  'tis  time 
to  tell  thee." 

84 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

Her  eyes  grew  more  radiant. 

"  My  blessed  Gabriel  V 

"  Nay,  I  fear  thou  wilt  hate  me." 

*'Hate  thee  !" 

"  Because  I  must  leave  thee." 

"  'Tis  the  natural  lot  of  mothers  to  be  left,  my  Gabriel." 

"  Ah,  but  this  is  most  unnatural.  Oh,  my  God  !  why 
am  I  thus  tried  ?" 

"  What  meanest  thou  ?  What  has  happened  ?"  The 
old  woman  had  risen. 

"  I  must  leave  Portugal." 

'-'  Wherefore  ?  in  Heaven's  name  !     Leave  Portugal  ?" 

''  Hush,  or  the  servants  will  hear.  I  would  become,"  he 
breathed  low,  "a,  Jew  !" 

Dona  da  Costa  blenched,  and  stared  at  him  breathless,  a 
strange  light  in  her  eyes,  but  not  that  which  he  had  ex- 
pected. 

"'Tis  the  finger  of  God  !"  she  whispered,  awestruck. 

"  Mother  !"     He  was  thrilled  with  a  wild  suspicion. 

"  Yes,  my  father  was  a  Jew.  I  was  brought  up  as  a 
Jewess." 

"  Hush  !  hush  !"  he  cautioned  her  again,  and  going  to 
the  door  peered  into  the  gloom.  "  But  my  father  ?"  ho 
asked,  shutting  the  door  carefully. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  His  family,  though  likewise  Marranos,  were  true  be- 
lievers. It  was  the  grief  of  my  life  that  I  dared  never  tell 
him.  Often  since  his  death,  memories  from  my  girlhood 
have  tugged  at  my  heart.  But  I  durst  not  influence  my 
children's  faith — it  would  have  meant  deadly  peril  to  them. 
And  now — 0  Heaven  ! — perchance  torture — the  stake — I" 

"No,  mother,  I  will  fly  to  where  faith  is  free." 

"  Then  I  shall  lose  thee  all  the  same.  O  God  of  Israel, 
Thy  vengeance  hath  found  me  at  last  I"  And  she  fell  upon 

85 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  coucli,  sobbing,  overwrought.     He  stood  by,  helpless, 
distracted,  striving  to  hnsh  her, 

"  How  did  this  thing  happen  to  you  ?"  she  sobbed. 

Briefly  he  told  her  of  his  struggles,  of  the  episode  of 
.Dom  Diego,  of  his  conviction  that  the  Old  Testament  was 
the  true  and  sufficient  guide  to  life. 

"But  why  flee?"  she  asked.  ''Let  us  all  return  to 
Judaism  ;  thy  brother  Vidal  is  young  and  malleable,  he 
will  follow  us.  We  will  be  secret ;  from  my  girlhood  I 
know  how  suspicion  may  be  evaded.  We  Avill  gradually 
change  all  the  servants  save  Pedro,  and  have  none  but 
blacks.  Why  shouldst  thou  leave  this  beautiful  home  of 
thine,  thy  friends,  thy  station  in  society,  thy  chances  of  a 
noble  match  ?" 

''Mother,  thou  painest  me.  What  is  all  else  beside  our 
duty  to  truth,  to  reason,  to  God  ?  I  must  worship  all  these 
under  the  naked  sky." 

"  My  brave  boy  !  forgive  me  !"  And  she  sprang  up  to 
embrace  him.  "We  will  go  with  thee;  we  Avill  found  a 
new  home  at  Amsterdam." 

"  Nay,  not  at  thy  years,  mother."  And  he  smoothed  her 
silver  hair. 

"Yea;  I,  too,  have  studied  the  Old  Testament."  And 
her  eyes  smiled  through  their  tears.  "  '  AV'herever  thou 
goest,  I  will  go.  Thy  country  shall  be  my  country,  and  thy 
God  my  God.'" 

He  kissed  her  wet  cheek. 

Ere  they  separated  in  the  gray  dawn  they  had  threshed 
out  ways  and  means  ;  how  to  realize  their  projaerty  with  as 
little  loss  and  as  little  observation  as  possible,  and  how 
secretly  to  ship  for  the  Netherlands.  The  slightest  im- 
prudence might  betray  them  to  the  Holy  Office,  and  so 
Vidal  was  not  told  till  'tAvas  absolutely  essential. 

The  poor  young  man  grew  pale  with  fright. 

86 


URIEL    A COSTA 

"  Wonldst  drive  me  to  Purgatory  ?"  he  asked. 

''Nay,  Judaism  hatli  no  Purgatory."  Then  seeing  the 
consolation  Avas  somewhat  confused,  Gabriel  added  emphat- 
ically, to  ease  the  distress  of  one  he  loved  dearly,  "There  is 
no  Purgatory." 

Vidal  looked  more  frightened  than  ever.  "  But  the 
Church  says — "  he  began.  • 

"The  Church  says  Purgatory  is  beneath  the  earth  ;  but 
the  world  being  round,  there  is  no  beneath,  and,  mayhap, 
men  like  ourselves  do  inhabit  our  Antipodes.  And  the 
Church  holds  with  Aristotle  that  the  heavens  be  incorrup- 
tible, and  contemns  Copernicus  his  theory  ;  yet  have  I 
heard  from  Dom  Diego  de  Balthasar,  who  hath  the  science 
of  the  University,  that  a  young  Italian,  hight  Galileo  Gali- 
lei, hath  just  made  a  wondrous  instrument  which  magni- 
fies objects  thirty-two  times,  and  that  therewith  he  hath 
discovered  a  new  star.  Also  doth  he  declare  the  Milky 
Way  to  be  but  little  stars  ;  for  the  which  the  Holy  Office 
is  wroth  with  him,  men  say." 

"  But  what  have  I  to  make  with  the  Milky  Way  ?"  whim- 
pered Vidal,  his  own  face  as  milk. 

Gabriel  was  somewhat  taken  aback.  "'Tis  the  infallibil- 
ity of  the  Pope  that  is  shaken,"  he  explained.  "  But  in  it- 
self the  Christian  faith  is  more  abhorrent  to  Reason  than 
the  Jewish.  The  things  it  teaches  about  God  have  more 
difficulties." 

"  What  difficulties  ?"  quoth  Vidal.  "I  see  no  difficul- 
ties." 

But  in  the  end  the  younger  brother,  having  all  Gabriel's 
impressionability,  and  none  of  his  strength  to  stand  alone, 
consented  to  accompany  the  refugees. 

During  those  surreptitious  preparations  for  flight,  Gabriel 
had  to  go  about  his  semi-ecclesiastical  duties  and  take  part 
in  Church  ceremonies  as  heretofore.     This  so  chafed  him 

87 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

that  he  sometimes  thought  of  prochiiming  liimself  ;  but 
though  he  did  not  shrink  from  the  thought  of  the  stake, 
he  shrank  from  the  degradation  of  imprisonment,  from  the 
public  humiliation,  foreseeing  the  horror  of  him  in  the 
faces  of  all  his  old  associates.  And  sometimes,  indeed,  it 
flashed  uj)on  him  h-ow  dear  were  these  friends  of  his  youth, 
despite  reason  and  religion  ;  how  like  a  cordial  was  the 
laughter  in  their  eyes,  the  clasp  of  their  hands,  the  well- 
worn  jests  of  college  and  monastery,  market-place  and  rid- 
ing-school !  How  good  it  was,  this  common  life,  how  sweet 
to  sink  into  the  general  stream  and  be  borne  along  effort- 
less !  Even  as  he  knelt,  in  conscious  hypocrisy,  the  emo- 
tion of  all  these  worshippers  sometimes  swayed  him  in  mag- 
netic sympathy,  and  the  crowds  of  holiday-makers  in  the 
streets,  festively  garbed,  stirred  him  to  yearning  reconcilia- 
tion. And  now  that  he  was  to  tear  himself  away,  how  dear 
was  each  familiar  haunt — the  woods  and  waters,  the  pleas- 
ant hills  strewn  with  grazing  cattle  I  How  caressingly  the 
blue  sky  bent  over  him,  beseeching  him  to  stay  !  And  the 
town  itself,  how  he  loved  its  steep  streets,  the  massive 
Moorish  gates,  the  palaces,  the  monasteries,  the  white- 
washed houses,  the  old-fashioned  ones,  quaint  and  window- 
less,  and  the  newer  with  their  protrusive  balcony-windows 
— ay,  and  the  very  flavor  of  garlic  and  onion  that  pervaded 
everything  ;  how  oft  he  had  sauntered  in  the  Rua  das 
Flores,  watching  the  gold- workers  !  And  as  he  moved 
about  the  old  family  home  he  had  a  new  sense  of  its  inti- 
mate appeal.  Every  beautiful  panel  and  tile,  every  gracious 
curve  of  the  great  staircase,  every  statue  in  its  niche,  had 
a  place,  hitherto  unacknowledged,  in  his  heart,  and  called 
to  him. 

But  greater  than  the  call  of  all  these  was  the  call  of 
Reason. 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

PART  II 
URIEl,    ACOSTA 

VII* 

With  what  emotion,  as  of  a  pilgrim  reaching  Palestine, 
Gabriel  found  himself  at  last  in  the  city  where  a  synagogue 
stood  in  the  eye  of  day  !  The  warmth  at  his  heart  annulled 
whatever  of  chill  stole  in  at  the  grayness  of  the  canaled 
streets  of  the  northern  city  after  the  color  and  glow  of 
Porto.  His  first  care  as  soon  as  he  was  settled  in  the  great, 
marble-hailed  house  which  his  mother's  old  friends  and  rel- 
atives in  the  city  had  purchased  on  his  behalf,  Avas  to  be- 
take himself  on  the  Sabbath  with  his  mother  and  brother 
to  the  Portuguese  synagogue.  Though  his  ignorance  of 
his  new  creed  was  so  great  that  he  doffed  his  hat  on  enter- 
ing, nor  knew  how  to  don  the  praying-shawl  lent  him  by  the 
beadle,  and  was  rather  disconcerted  to  find  his  mother 
might  not  sit  at  his  side,  but  must  be  relegated  to  a  gal- 
lery behind  a  grille,  yet  his  attitude  Avas  too  emotional  to 
be  critical.  The  prayer-book  interested  him  keenly,  and 
though  he  strove  to  follow  the  service,  his  conscious  He- 
brew could  not  at  all  keep  pace  with  the  congregational 
speed,  and  he  felt  unreasonably  shamed  at  his  failures  to 
rise  or  bow.  Vidal,  who  had  as  yet  no  Hebrew,  interested 
himself  in  picking  out  ancient  denizens  of  Porto  and  com- 
municating his  discoveries  to  his  brother  in  a  loud  whisper, 
which  excited  Gabriel's  other  neighbor  to  point  out  scions 
of  the  first  Spanish  families,  other  members  of  which,  at 
home,  were  props  of  Holy  Church,  bishops,  and  even  arch- 
bishops. A  curious  figure,  this  red-bearded,  gross-paunched 
neighbor,  rocking  automatically  to  and  fro  in  his  taleth,  but 
evidently  far  faincr  to  gossip  than  to  pray. 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Friars  and  nuns  of  almost  every  monastic  order  were, 
said  he,  here  regathered  to  Judaism,  He  himself,  Isaac 
Pereira,  who  sat  there  safe  and  snug,  had  been  a  Jesnit  in 
Spain, 

"I  was  sick  of  the  pious  make-believe,  and  itched  to  es- 
cape over  here.  But  the  fools  had  let  me  sell  indulgences, 
and  I  had  a  goodly  stock  on  hand,  and  trade  was  slack" — 
here  he  interrupted  himself  with  a  fervent  "Amen  !"  con- 
ceded to  the  service  —  "in  Spain  just  then.  It's  no  use 
carrying  'em  over  to  the  Netherlands,  thinks  I ;  they're  too 
clever  over  there.  I  must  get  rid  of  'em  in  some  country 
free  for  Jews,  and  yet  containing  Catholics.  So  what 
should  I  do  but  slip  over  from  Malaga  to  Barbary,  Avhere  I 
sold  off  the  remainder  of  my  stock  to  some  Catholics  liv- 
ing among  the  Moors.  No  sooner  had  I  pocketed  the  — 
Amen  I  —  money  than  I  declared  myself  a  Jew.  God  of 
Abraham !  The  faces  those  Gentiles  pulled  when  they 
found  what  a  bad  bargain  they  had  made  with  Heaven  ! 
They  appealed  to  tlie  Cadi  against  what  they  called  the 
imposition.  But"  —  and  here  an  irrepressible  chuckle 
mingled  with  the  roar  of  the  praying  multitude — "I 
claimed  the  privilege  of  a  free  port  to  sell  any  description 
of  goods,  and  the  Cadi  had  to  give  his  ruling  in  accordance 
with  the  law," 

In  the  exhilaration  of  his  mood  this  sounded  amusing  to 
Gabriel,  an  answering  of  fools  according  to  their  folly. 
But  'twas  not  long  before  it  recurred  to  him  to  add  to  his 
disgust  and  his  disappointment  with  his  new  brethren  and 
his  new  faith.  For  after  he  had  submitted  himself,  with 
his  brother,  to  circumcision,  replaced  his  baptismal  name 
by  the  Hebrew  Uriel,  and  Vidal's  by  Joseph,  Latinizing  at 
the  same  time  the  family  name  to  Acosta,  he  found  himself 
confronted  by  a  host  of  minute  ordinances  far  more  galling 
than  those  of  the  Church.      Eating,  drinking,  sleeping, 

90 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

dressing,  washing,  working ;  not  the  simplest  action  but 
was  dogged  and  clogged  by  incredible  imperatives. 

Astonishment  gave  place  to  dismay,  and  dismay  to  indig- 
nation and  abhorrence,  as  he  realized  into  what  a  network 
of  ceremonial  he  had  entangled  himself.  The  Pentatench 
itself,  with  its  complex  codex  of  six  hnndred  and  thirteen 
precepts,  formed,  he  discovered,  bnt  the  barest  framework 
for  a  jiarasitic  growth  insinuating  itself  with  infinite  rami- 
fications into  the  most  intimate  recesses  of  life. 

Wliat  !  Was  it  for  this  Rabbinic  manufacture  that  he 
had  exchanged  the  stately  ceremonial  of  Catholicism  ? 
Had  he  thrown  off  mental  fetters  but  to  rejalace  them  by 
bodily  ? 

"Was  this  the  Golden  Age  that  he  had  looked  to  find — 
the  simple  Mosaic  theocracy  of  reason  and  righteousness  ? 

And  the  Jews  themselves,  were  these  the  Chosen  People 
he  had  clothed  with  such  romantic  glamour  ? — fat  burgh- 
ers, clucking  comfortably  under  the  wing  of  the  Protestant 
States-General ;  merchants  sumptuously  housed,  vivifying 
Dutch  trade  in  the  Indies  ;  their  forms  and  dogmas  alone 
distinguishing  them  from  the  heathen  Hollanders,  whom 
they  aped  even  to  the  very  patronage  of  painters  ;  or,  at 
the  other  end  of  this  bastard  brotherhood  of  righteousness, 
sore-eyed  wretches  trundling  their  flat  carts  of  second- 
hand goods,  or  initiating  a  squalid  ghetto  of  diamond-cut- 
ting and  cigar-making  in  oozy  alleys  and  on  the  refuse- 
laden  borders  of  treeless  canals.  Oh  !  he  was  tricked, 
trapped,  betrayed  ! 

His  wrath  gathered  daily,  finding  vent  in  bitter  speeches. 
If  this  was  what  had  become  of  the  Mosaic  Law  and  the 
Holy  People,  the  sooner  a  son  of  Israel  spoke  out  the  bet- 
ter for  his  race.  Was  it  not  an  inspiration  from  on  high 
that  had  given  him  the  name  of  Uriel — "fire  of  God''? 
So,  when  his  private  thunders  iiad  procured  him  a  sum- 

91 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

mons  before  the  outraged  Rabbinic  court,  he  was  in  no 
wise  to  be  awed  by  the  Chacham  and  his  Rabbis  in  their 
solemn  robes. 

"  Pharisees  !"  he  cried,  and,  despite  his  lost  Christianity, 
all  the  scorn  of  his  early  training  clung  to  the  word. 

"  Epicurean  !"  they  retorted,  with  contempt  more  wither- 
ing still. 

"  Nay,  Epicurus  have  I  never  read,  and  what  I  know  of 
his  doctrine  by  hearsay  revolteth  me.  I  am  for  God  and 
Reason,  and  a  pure  Judaism." 

"  Even  so  talked  Elisha  Ben  Abuya  in  Palestine  of  old," 
put  in  the  second  Rabbi  more  mildly.  "  He  with  his 
Greek  culture,  who  stalked  from  Sinai  to  Olymjjus,  and 
ended  in  Atheism." 

"  I  know  not  of  Elisha,  but  I  marvel  not  that  your  teach- 
ing drove  him  to  Atheism." 

*'  Said  I  not  'twas  Atheism,  not  Judaispi,  thou  talkedst  ? 
And  an  Atheist  in  our  ranks  we  may  not  harbor  :  our  com- 
munity is  young  in  Amsterdam.  'Il'x?,  yet  on  sufferance, 
and  these  Dutchmen  are  easily  moved  to  riot.  We  have  * 
won  our  ground  with  hibor.  Traitor  !  wouldst  thou  cut  the 
dykes  ?" 

"  Traitor  thou  !"  retorted  Uriel.  "  Traitor  to  God  and 
His  holy  Law." 

"  Hold  thy  peace  !"  thundered  the  Chacliain,  "  or  the 
ban  shall  be  laid  upon  thee." 

"  Hold  my  peace  !"  answered  Uriel  scornfully.  "  Nay,  I 
expatriated  myself  for  freedom  ;  I  shall  not  hold  my  peace 
for  the  sake  of  the  ban." 

Nor  did  he.  At  home  and  abroad  he  exhausted  himself 
in  invective,  in  exhortation. 

"  Be  silent,  Uriel,"  begged  his  aged  mother,  dreading  a 
breach  of  the  happiness  her  soul  had  found  at  last  in  its  old 
spiritual  swathiugs.     "This  Judaism  thou  deridest  is  the 

93 


URIEL    ACOSTA 
4i 

true,  the  pure  Judaism,  as  I  was  taught  it  in  my  girlhood. 

Let  me  go  to  my  grave  iu  peace." 

"Be  silent,  Uriel,"  besought  his  brother  Joseph.  "If 
thou  dost  not  give  over,  old  Manasseh  and  his  cronies  will 
bar  me  out  from  those  lucrative  speculations  in  the  Indies, 
wherein  also  I  am  investing  thy  money  for  thee.  They 
have  already  half  a  hundred  privateers,  and  the  States- 
General  wink  at  anything  that  Avill  cri^^ple  Spain,  so  if  we 
can  seize  its  silver  fleet,  or  capture  Portuguese  possessions 
in  South  America,  we  shall  reap  revenge  on  our  enemies 
and  big  dividends.  And  he  hath  a  comely  daughter,  hath 
Manasseh,  and  methinks  her  eye  is  not  unkindly  towards 
me.  Give  over,  I  beg  of  thee  !  This  religion  liketh  me 
much — no  confession,  no  damnation,  and  'tis  the  faith  of 
our  fathers." 

"No  damnation  —  ay,  but  no  salvation  either.  They 
teach  naught  of  immortality ;  their  creed  is  of  the  earth, 
earthy.'" 

"  Then  Avhy  didst  thou  drag  me  from  Portugal  ?"  in- 
f  quired  Joseph  angrily. 

But  Uriel — the  fire  of  God — was  not  to  be  quenched ; 
and  so,  not  without  frequent  warning,  fell  the  fire  of  man. 
In  a  solemn  conclave  in  the  black-robed  synagogue,  with 
awful  symbolisms  of  extinguished  torches,  the  ban  was  laid 
upon  Uriel  Acosta,  and  henceforth  no  man,  woman,  or 
child  dared  walk  or  talk  with  him.  The  very  beggars  re- 
fused his  alms,  the  street  hawkers  spat  out  as  he  passed  by. 
His  own  mother  and  brother,  now  completely  under  the 
sway  of  their  new  Jewish  circle,  removed  from  the  pol- 
lution of  his  presence,  leaving  him  alone  in  the  great  house 
with  the  black  page.  And  this  house  was  shunned  as 
tliough  marked  with  the  cross  of  the  pestilence.  The  more 
high-spirited  Jew-boys  would  throw  stones  at  its  windows 
or  rattle  its  doors,  but  it  was  even  keener  sport  to  run  after 

93 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

•0 

its  tenant  himself,  on  the  rare  occasions  when  he  appeared 
in  the  streets,  to  spit  out  like  their  elders  at  the  sight  of 
him,  to  pelt  him  with  mud,  and  to  shout  after  him,  "Epi- 
curean \"     "  Bastard  !"     "  Sinner  in  Israel  \" 


VIII 

But  although  by  this  isolation  the  Rabbis  had  practically 
cut  out  the  heretic's  tongue — for  he  knew  no  Dutch,  nor, 
indeed,  ever  learned  to  hold  converse  with  his  Christian 
neighbors  —  yet  there  remained  his  pen,  and  in  dread  of 
the  attack  upon  them  which  rumor  declared  him  to  be  in- 
diting behind  the  shuttered  windows  of  his  great  lonely 
house,  they  instigated  Samuel  Da  Silva,  a  physician  equal- 
ly skilled  with  the  lancet  and  the  quill,  to  anticipate  him 
by  a  counterblast  calculated  to  discredit  the  thunderer. 
He  denied  immortality,  insinuated  the  horrified  Da  Silva, 
in  his  elegant  Portuguese  treatise,  Tradado  da  ImmortaUde, 
probably  basing  his  knowledge  of  Uriel's  "bestial  and  in- 
jurious opinions"  on  the  confused  reports  of  the  heretic's 
brother,  but  refraining  from  mentioning  his  forbidden 
name. 

"  False  slanders  !"  cried  Uriel  in  his  reply — completed — 
since  he  had  been  anticipated — at  his  leisure  ;  but  he  only 
confirmed  the  popular  conception  of  his  materialistic  errors, 
seeming,  indeed,  of  wavering  mind  on  the  subject  of  the 
future  life.  His  thought  had  marched  on  :  and  whereas  it 
had  been  his  complaint  to  Joseph  that  Rabbinism  laid  no 
stress  on  immortality,  further  investigation  of  the  Penta- 
teuch had  shown  him  that  Moses  himself  had  taken  no  ac- 
count wiiatsoevcr  of  the  conception,  nor  striven  to  bolster 
up  the  morality  of  to-day  by  the  terrors  of  a  posthumous 
to-morrow. 

94 


UKIEL    ACOSTA 

So  Uriel  stood  self-coudemned,  and  the  Rabbis  triumphed, 
superfluously  justified  in  the  eyes  of  their  flock  against  this 
blaspheming  materialist.  Nay,  Uriel  should  fall  into  the 
pit  himself  had  digged.  The  elders  of  the  congregation 
appealed  to  the  magistrates  ;  they  translated  with  bated 
breath  passages  from  the  baleful  book,  Tradipocns  Phari- 
seas  confer idos  con  a  Ley  escrida.  Uriel  was  summoned 
before  the  tribunal,  condemned  to  pay  three  hundred  gul- 
dens, imprisoned  for  eight  days.     The  book  was  burnt. 

No  less  destructive  a  flame  burnt  at  the  prisoner's  heart, 
as,  writhing  on  his  dungeon  pallet,  biting  his  lips,  digging 
his  nails  into  his  palms,  he  cursed  these  malignant  per- 
verters  of  pure  Judaism,  who  had  shamed  him  even  before 
the  Hollanders.  He,  the  proud  and  fearless  gentleman  of 
Portugal,  had  been  branded  as  a  criminal  by  these  fish- 
blooded  Dutchmen.  Never  would  he  hold  intercourse  Avith 
his  fellow-creatures  again — never,  never !  Alone  with  God 
and  his  thoughts  he  would  live  and  die. 

And  so  for  year  after  year,  though  he  lingered  in  the 
city  that  held  his  dear  ones,  he  abode  in  his  cold  marble- 
pillared  house,  save  for  his  Moorish  servant,  having  speech 
with  man  nor  woman.  Nor  did  he  ever  emerge,  unless  at 
hours  when  his  childish  persecutors  were  abed,  so  that  in 
time  they  turned  to  fresher  sj)ort.  But  at  night  he  Avould 
sometimes  be  met  wandering  by  the  dark  canals,  with  eyes 
that  kept  the  inward  look  of  the  sequestered  student, 
seeming  to  see  nothing  of  the  sombre  many  -  twinkling 
beauty  of  starlit  waters,  or  the  tender  coloring  of  mist  and 
haze,  but  full  only  of  the  melancholy  of  the  gray  marshes, 
and  sometimes  growing  wet  with  bitter  yearning  for  the 
sun  and  the  orange-trees  and  the  warmth  of  friendly  faces. 
And  sometimes  in  the  cold  dawn  the  early  market-people 
met  him  riding  madly  in  the  environs,  in  the  silk  doublet 
of  a  Portuguese  grandee,  his  sword  clanking,  and  in  his 

95 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

hand  a  silver-mounted  pistol,  with  which  he  snapped  off 
the  twigs  as  he  flew  past.  And  when  his  beloved  brother 
was  married  to  the  daughter  of  Manasseh,  the  millionaire 
and  the  president  of  the  India  Company — which  in  that 
wonderful  year  paid  its  shareholders  a  dividend  of  seventy- 
five  in  the  hundred — some  of  the  wedding-guests  averred 
that  they  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  Uriel's  dark,  yearning 
face  amid  the  motley  crowd  assembled  outside  the  syna- 
gogue to  watch  the  arrival  of  Joseph  Acosta  and  his  beau- 
tiful bride ;  and  there  were  those  who  said  that  Uriel's 
hands  were  raised  as  in  blessing.  And  once  on  a  moon- 
less midnight,  when  the  venerable  Dona  Acosta  had  passed 
away,  the  watchman  in  the  Jews'  cemetery,  stealing  from 
his  turret  at  a  suspicious  noise,  turned  his  lantern  upon — 
no  body-snatcher,  but — 0  more  nefarious  spectacle  I — the 
sobbing  figure  of  Uriel  Acosta  across  a  new-dug  grave,  pol- 
luting the  holy  soil  of  the  Beth-Chaijim! 


IX 

And  so  the  seasons  and  the  years  wore  on,  each  walling 
in  the  lonely  thinker  with  more  solid  ice,  and  making  it 
only  the  more  difficult  ever  to  break  through  or  to  melt  his 
prison  walls.  Nigh  fifteen  long  winter  years  had  passed  in 
a  solitude  tempered  by  theological  thought,  and  Uriel, 
nigh  forgotten  by  his  people,  had  now  worked  his  way  even 
from  the  religion  of  Moses.  It  was  the  heart  alone  that  was 
the  seat  of  religion  ;  wherefore,  no  self-styled  Revelation 
that  contradicted  Nature  could  be  true.  Right  Religion 
was  according  to  Right  Reason;  but  no  religion  was  rea- 
sonable that  could  set  brother  against  brother.  All  cere- 
monies were  opposed  to  Reason.  Goodness  was  the  only 
true  religion.     Such  bold  conclusions  sometimes  affrighted 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

himself,  being  alone  in  the  world  to  hold  them.  "All 
evils/'  his  note-book  summed  it  up  in  his  terse  Latin, 
"  come  from  not  following  Right  Reason  and  the  Law  of 
Nature." 

And  thinking  such  thoughts  in  the  dead  language  that 
befitted  one  cut  off  from  life,  to  whom  Dutch  was  never 
aught  but  the  unintelligible  jargon  of  an  unspiritual  race, 
he  was  leaving  his  house  on  a  bleak  evening  when  one 
clapjjed  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  turning  in  amaze,  he 
was  still  more  mazed  to  find,  for  the  first  time  in  fifteen 
years,  a  fellow-creature  tendering  a  friendly  smile  and  a 
friendly  hand.  He  drew  back  instinctively,  without  even 
recognizing  the  aged,  white-bearded,  yet  burly  figure. 

"What,  Senhor  Da  Costa!  thou  hast  forgotten  thy 
victim  ?" 

With  a  strange  thrill  he  felt  the  endless  years  in  Amster- 
dam slip  off  him  like  the  coils  of  some  icy  serpent,  as  he 
recognized  the  genial  voice  of  the  Porto  physician,  and 
though  he  was  back  again  in  the  dungeon  of  the  Holy  Office, 
it  was  not  the  gloom  of  the  vault  that  he  felt,  but  sun- 
shine and  blue  skies  and  spring  and  youth.  Through  the 
soft  mist  of  delicious  tears  he  gazed  at  the  kindly  furrowed 
face  of  the  now  hoary-headed  physician,  and  clasjDed  his 
great  warm  hand,  holding  it  tight,  forgetting  to  drop  it,  as 
though  it  were  drawing  him  back  to  life  and  love  and 
fellowship. 

The  first  few  words  made  it  clear  that  Dom  Diego  had 
not  heard  of  Uriel's  excommunication.  He  was  new  in  the 
city,  having  been  driven  there,  pathetically  enough,  at  the 
extreme  end  of  his  life  by  the  renewed  activity  of  the  Holy 
Office.  "  I  longed  to  die  in  Portugal,"  he  said,  with  his 
burly  laugh  ;  "  but  not  at  the  hands  of  the  Inquisition." 

Uriel  choked  back  the  wild  impulse  to  denounce  the 
crueller  Inquisition  of  Jewry,  from  the  sudden  recollection 
G  97 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

tliat  Dom  Diego  might  at  once  withdraw  from  him  the 
blessed  privilege  of  human  speech. 

"  Didst  make  a  good  voyage  ?"  he  asked  instead. 

"  Nay,  the  billows  were  in  the  Catholic  League/'  replied 
the  old  man,  making  a  wry  face.  "However,  the  God  of 
Israel  neither  slumbers  nor  sleeps,  and  I  rejoice  to  liave 
chanced  upon  thee,  were  it  only  to  be  guided  back  to  my 
lodgings  amid  this  water  labyrinth." 

On  the  way,  Uriel  gave  what  answers  he  could  to  the  old 
man's  questionings.  His  mother  was  dead  ;  his  brother 
Vidal  had  married,  though  his  wife  had  died  some  years 
later  in  giving  birth  to  a  boy,  Avho  was  growing  up  beauti- 
ful as  a  cherub.  Yes,  he  was  prospering  in  worldly  affairs, 
having  long  since  intrusted  them  to  Joseph — that  was  to 
say,  Vidal — who  had  embarked  all  the  family  wealth  in  a 
Dutch  enterprise  called  the  West  India  Company,  which 
ran  a  fleet  of  privateers,  to  prey  upon  the  treasure-ships 
in  the  war  with  Spain.  He  did  not  say  that  his  own  in- 
terests were  paid  to  him  by  formal  letter  through  a  law 
firm,  and  that  he  went  in  daily  fear  that  his  estranged 
and  pious  brother,  now  a  pillar  of  the  synagogue,  would 
one  day  religiously  appropriate  the  heretic's  property, 
backed  by  who  knew  what  devilish  provision  of  Church  or 
State,  leaving  him  to  starve.  But  he  wondered  through- 
out their  walk  why  Dom  Diego,  who  had  such  constant 
correspondence  with  Amsterdam,  had  never  heard  of  his 
excommunication,  and  his  bitterness  came  back  as  he  real- 
ized that  the  ban  had  extended  to  the  mention  of  his  name, 
that  he  was  as  one  dead,  buried,  cast  down  to  obliviou. 
Even  before  he  had  accepted  the  physician's  invitation  to 
cross  his  threshold,  he  had  resolved  to  turn  this  silence  to 
his  own  profit :  he,  whose  inward  boast  was  his  stainless 
honor,  had  resolved  to  act  a  silent  lie.  Was  it  not  fair  to 
outwit  the  rogues  with  their  own  weapon  ?     He  had  faded 

98 


UKIEL    ACOSTA 

from  hnman  memory — let  it  be  so.  Was  he  to  be  cut  off 
from  this  sudden  joy  of  friendship  with  one  of  his  blood 
and  race,  he  Avhose  soul  was  perishing  with  drought, 
though,  until  this  moment,  he  had  been  too  proud  to  own 
it  to  himself  ? 

But  when  he  entered  Dom  Diego's  lodging  and  saw  the 
unexpected,  forgotten  lanthe  —  lanthe  grown  from  that 
sweet  child  to  matchless  grace  of  early  womanhood  ;  lan- 
the with  her  dark  smiling  eyes  and  her  caressing  voice  and 
her  gentle  movements — then  this  resolution  of  passive  si- 
lence was  exchanged  for  a  determination  to  fight  desper- 
ately against  discovery.  In  the  glow  of  his  soul,  in  the 
stir  of  youth  and  spring  in  his  veins,  in  the  melting  rapt- 
ure of  his  mood,  that  first  sight  of  a  beautiful  girl's  face 
bent  smilingly  to  greet  her  father's  guest  had  sufficed  to 
set  his  heart  aflame  with  a  new  emotion,  sweet,  riotous, 
sacred.  AVhat  a  merry  supper-party  was  that ;  each  dish 
eaten  with  the  sauce  of  joyous  memories  !  How  gaily  he 
rallied  lanthe  on  her  childish  ways  and  sayings !  Of 
course,  she  remembered  him,  she  said,  and  the  toys  and 
flowers,  and  told  how  comically  he  had  puckered  his  brow 
in  argumentation  with  her  father.  Yes,  he  had  the  same 
funny  lines  still,  and  once  she  touched  his  forehead  lightly 
for  an  instant  with  her  slender  fingers  in  facetious  demon- 
stration, and  he  trembled  in  painful  rapture.  And  she 
played  on  her  lute,  too,  on  the  lute  he  had  given  her  of 
old,  those  slender  fingers  making  ravishing  music  on  the 
many-stringed  instrument,  though  her  pose  as  she  played 
was  more  witching  still.  What  a  beautiful  glimpse  of 
white  shoulders  and  dainty  lace  her  straight -cut  black 
bodice  permitted  ! 

He  left  the  house  drunk,  exalted,  and  as  the  cold  night 
air  smote  the  forehead  she  had  touched  he  was  thrilled 
with  fiery  energy.    He  was  young  still,  thank  God,  though 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

fifteen  years  had  been  eaten  out  of  his  life,  and  he  had 
thought  himself  as  old  and  gray  as  the  marshes.  He  was 
young  still,  he  told  himself  fiercely,  defiantly.  At  home 
his  note-book  lay  open,  as  usual,  on  his  desk,  like  a  friend 
waiting  to  hear  what  thoughts  had  come  to  him  in  his  lone- 
ly walk.  How  far  off  and  alien  seemed  this  cold  confidant 
now,  how  irrelevant,  and  yet,  when  his  eye  glanced  curi- 
ously at  his  last  recorded  sentence,  how  relevant!  '-'All 
evils  come  from  not  following  Right  Reason  and  the  Law 
of  Nature."  How  true  !  How  true  !  He  had  followed 
neither  Right  Reason  nor  the  Law  of  Nature. 


X 

In  the  morning,  when  the  cold,  pitiless  eye  of  the  think- 
er penetrated  through  the  sophisms  of  desire  as  clearly  as 
his  bodily  eye  saw  the  gray  in  his  hair  and  the  premature 
age  in  his  face,  he  saw  how  impossible  it  was  to  keep  the 
secret  of  his  situation  from  Dom  Diego.  Honor  forbade  it, 
though  this,  he  did  not  shrink  from  admitting  to  himself, 
might  have  counted  little  but  for  the  certainty  of  discov- 
ery. If  he  went  to  the  physician's  abode  he  could  not  fail 
to  meet  fellow -Jews  there.  To  some,  perhaj)s,  of  the 
younger  generation,  his  forgotten  name  would  convey  no 
horrid  significance  ;  but  then,  Dom  Diego's  cronies  would 
be  among  the  older  men.  No  ;  he  must  himself  warn  Dom 
Diego  that  he  was  a  leper — a  pariah.  But  not — since  that 
miglit  mean  final  parting — not  without  a  farewell  meeting. 
He  sent  Pedro  with  a  note  to  the  physician's  lodgings,  beg- 
ging to  be  allowed  the  privilege  of  returning  his  hospitality 
that  same  evening;  and  the  physician  accepting  for  him- 
self and  daughter,  a  charwoman  was  sent  for,  the  great 
cobwebbed  house  Avas  scrubbed  and  furbished  in  the  living 

100 


URIEL    A  COSTA 

chambers,  the  ancient  silver  was  exhumed  from  mildewed 
cupboards,  the  heavy  oil-paintings  were  dusted,  a  livel}'  ca- 
nary in  a  bright  cage  was  hung  on  a  marble  pillar  of  the 
dining-room,  over  the  carven  angels  ;  flowers  were  brought 
in,  and  at  night,  in  the  soft  light  of  the  candles,  the  traces 
of  year -long  neglect  being  subdued  and  hidden,  a  spirit 
of  festivity  and  gaiety  pervaded  the  house  as  of  natural 
wont,  while  the  Moorish  attendant's  red  knee-breeches, 
gold-braided  coat,  and  blue-feathered  turban,  hitherto  so 
incongruous  in  the  general  grayness,  now  seemed  part  of 
the  normal  color.  And  Uriel,  too,  grown  younger  with  the 
house,  made  a  handsome  be-ruffed  figure  as  he  sat  at  the 
board,  exchanging  merry  sallies  with  the  physician  and 
Ian  the. 

After  the  meal  and  the  good  wine  that  alone  had  not 
had  its  cobwebs  brushed  shamefacedly  away,  Dom  Diego  fell 
conveniently  asleep,  looking  so  worn  and  old  when  the  light 
of  his  lively  fancy  had  died  out  of  his  face,  that  the  speech 
of  Uriel  and  lanthe  took  a  tenderer  tone  for  fear  of  dis- 
turbing him.  Presently,  too,  their  hands  came  together, 
and — such  was  the  swift  sympathy  between  these  shapely 
creatures — did  not  dispart.  And  suddenly,  kindled  to  pas- 
sion by  her  warm  touch  and  breathing  presence,  stabbed 
with  the  fear  that  this  was  the  last  time  he  would  see  her, 
he  told  her  that  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  knew  the 
meaning  of  love. 

"  Oh,  if  thou  wouldst  but  return  my  love  !"  he  faltered 
Avith  dry  throat.  ''But  no  !  that  were  too  much  for  a  man 
of  my  years  to  hope.  But  whisper  at  least,  that  I  am  not 
repugnant  to  thee." 

She  was  about  to  reply,  when  he  dropped  her  hand  and 
stayed  her  with  a  gesture  as  abrupt  as  his  avowal. 

"Nay,  answer  me  not.  Not  till  I  have  told  thee  what 
honor  forbids  I  should  withhold." 

101 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

And  he  told  the  story  of  his  ban  and  his  long  loneliness, 
her  face  flashing  'twixt  terror  and  pity. 

''Answer  me,  now,"  he  said,  almost  sternly.  "  Couldst 
thou  love  such  a  man,  proscribed  by  his  race,  a  byword  and 
a  mockery,  to  whom  it  is  a  sin  against  Heaven  even  to 
speak  ?" 

"  They  would  not  marry  us,"  she  breathed  helplessly. 

"But  couldst  thou  love  me  ?" 

Her  eyes  drooped  as  she  breathed,  "  The  more  for  thy 
sufferings." 

But  even  in  the  ecstasy  of  this  her  acknowledgment,  he 
had  a  chill  undercurrent  of  consciousness  that  she  did  not 
understand ;  that,  never  having  lived  in  an  unperseeuted 
Jewish  community,  she  had  no  real  sense  of  its  own  perse- 
cuting power.  Still,  there  was  no  need  to  remain  in  Am- 
sterdam now  :  they  would  live  together  in  some  lonely  spot, 
in  the  religion  of  Right  Reason  that  he  would  teach  her. 
So  their  hands  came  together  again,  and  once  their  lips 
met.  But  the  father  was  yet  to  be  told  of  their  sudden- 
born,  sudden -grown  love,  and  this  with  characteristic  im- 
pulse Uriel  did  as  soon  as  the  old  physician  awoke. 

"  God  bless  my  soul  !"  said  Dom  Diego,  "  am  I  dreaming 
still  ?" 

His  sense  of  dream  increased  when  Uriel  went  on  to  re- 
peat the  story  of  his  excommunication. 

''And  the  ban — is  it  still  in  force  ?"  he  interrupted. 

"  It  has  not  been  removed,"  said  Uriel  sadly. 

The  burly  graybeard  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  And  with 
such  a  brand  upon  thy  brow  thou  didst  dare  speak  to  my 
daughter  !" 

"  Father  !"  cried  lanthe. 

"Father  me  not !  He  hath  beguiled  us  here  under  false 
pretences.  He  hath  made  us  violate  the  solemn  decree  of 
the  synagogue.     He  is  outlawed — he  and  his  house  and  his 

102 


UEIEL    ACOSTA 

food, — Sinner  !     The  viands  thou  hast  given  us,  what  of 
them  ?     Is  thy  meat  ritually  prej^ared  ?" 

"  Thou,  a  man  of  culture,  carest  for  these  childish 
things  ?" 

"  Childish  things  ?  AVherefore,  then,  have  I  left  my 
Portugal  r 

"All  ceremonies  are  against  Right  Reason,"  said  Uriel 
in  low  tones,  his  face  grown  deadly  white. 

'^Now  I  see  that  thou  hast  never  understood  our  holy 
and  beautiful  religion.  Men  of  culture,  forsooth  !  Is  not 
our  Amsterdam  congregation  full  of  men  of  culture — gram- 
marians, poets,  exegetes,  philosophers,  jurists,  but  flesh  and 
blood,  mark  you,  not  diagrams,  cut  out  of  Euclid  ?  Whence 
the  cohesion  of  our  race  ?  Ceremony  !  What  preserves  and 
unifies  its  scattered  atoms  throughout  the  world  ?  Cere- 
mony !  And  what  is  ceremony  ?  Poetry.  'Tis  the  tradi- 
tion handed  down  from  hoary  antiquity ;  'tis  the  color  of 
life. 

'"Tis  a  miserable  thraldom,"  interposed  Uriel  more 
feebly. 

"Miserable!  A  happy  service.  Ilast  never  danced  at 
the  Rejoicing  of  the  Law  ?  Who  so  joyous  as  our  breth- 
ren ?  Where  so  cheerful  a  creed  ?  The  trouble  Avith  thee 
is  that  thou  hast  no  childish  associations  with  our  glorious 
religion,  thou  camest  to  it  in  manhood  with  naught  but  the 
cold  eye  of  Reason." 

"  But  thou  dost  not  accept  every  invention  of  Rabbinism. 
Surely  in  Porto  thou  didst  not  practise  everything." 

"  I  kept  what  I  could.  I  believe  what  I  can.  If  I  have 
my  private  doubts,  Avhy  should  I  set  them  up  to  perplex 
the  community  withal  ?  There's  a  friend  of  mine  in  this 
very  city — not  to  mention  names — but  a  greater  heretic, 
I  ween,  than  even  thou.  But  doth  he  shatter  the  peace  of 
the  vulgar  ?     Nay,  not  he  :  he  hath  a  high  place  in  the 

103 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

synagogue,  is  a  blessing  to  the  Jewry,  and  confideth  his 
doubts  to  me  in  epistles  writ  in  elegant  Latin.  Nay,  nay, 
Senhor  Da  Costa,  the  world  loves  not  battering-rams." 

And  as  the  old  physician  spoke,  Uriel  began  dimly  to 
susjiect  that  he  had  misconceived  human  life,  taken  it  too 
earnestly,  and  at  his  heart  was  a  hollow  aching  sense  of 
futile  sacrifice.  And  with  it  a  suspicion  that  he  had  mis- 
taken Judaism,  too  —  missed  the  poetry  and  humanity 
behind  the  forms,  and,  as  he  gazed  wistfully  at  lanthe's 
tender  clouded  face,  he  felt  the  old  romantic  sense  of 
brotherhood  stirring  again.  How  wonderful  to  be  re- 
absorbed into  his  race,  fused  Avith  lanthe  ! 

But  Eight  Reason  resurged  in  relentless  ascendency,  and 
he  knew  that  his  thought  could  never  more  go  back  on 
itself,  that  he  could  never  again  place  faith  in  any  Reve- 
lation. 

"1  will  be  an  ape  among  apes,*'  he  thought  bitterly. 


XI 

And  the  more  he  pondered  upon  this  resolution,  after 
Dom  Diego  had  indignantly  shaken  off  the  dust  of  his 
threshold,  the  more  he  was  confirmed  in  it.  To  outwit  the 
Jewry  would  be  the  bitterest  revenge,  to  pay  lip-service  to 
its  ideals  and  laugh  at  it  in  his  sleeve.  And  thus,  too,  he 
would  circumvent  its  dreaded  design  to  seize  upon  his  ^^rop- 
erty.  Deception  ?  Ay,  but  the  fault  was  theirs  who  drove 
him  to  it,  leaving  him  only  a  leper's  life.  In  the  Peninsula 
they  had  dissembled  among  Christians  ;  he  would  dissem- 
ble among  Jews,  aping  the  ancient  apes.  He  foresaw  no 
difficulty  in  the  recantation.  And  —  famous  idea!  —  his 
brother  Joseph,  jjoor,  dear  fool,  should  bring  it  about  un- 
der the  illusion  that  he  was  the  instrument  of  Providence: 

104 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

for  to  employ  Dom  Diego  as  go-between  were  to  risk  the 
scenting  of  his  real  motive.  Then,  when  the  Synagogue 
had  taken  him  to  its  sanctimonious  arms,  lanthe — over- 
whelming thought ! — would  become  his  wife.  He  had  lit- 
tle doubt  of  that  ;  her  farewell  glance,  after  her  father's 
back  was  turned,  was  sweet  with  promises  and  beseech- 
ments,  and  a  brief  note  from  her  early  the  next  morning 
dissipated  his  last  doubts. 

''My  poor  Senhor  Da  Costa,"  she  wrote,  "I  have  lain 
awake  all  night  thinking  of  thee.  Why  ruin  thy  life  for  a 
mere  abstraction  ?  Canst  thou  not  make  peace  ! — Thy 
friend,  lanthe." 

He  kissed  the  note  ;  then,  his  wits  abnormally  sharpened, 
he  set  to  work  to  devise  how  to  meet  his  brother,  and  even 
as  he  was  meditating  how  to  trick  him,  his  heart  was  full 
of  affection  for  his  little  Vidal.  Poor  Vidal !  How  he 
must  have  suffered  to  lose  his  beautiful  Avife  ! 

There  were  days  on  which  Joseph's  business  or  pleasure 
took  him  past  his  brother's  house,  though  he  always  walked 
on  the  further  side,  and  Uriel  now  set  himself  to  keep 
watch  at  his  study  window  from  morning  to  night,  the  pair 
of  Dutch  mirrors  fixed  slantingly  outside  the  window  ena- 
bling him  to  see  all  the  street  life  without  being  seen. 
After  three  days,  his  patience  was  rewarded  by  the  reflected 
image  of  the  portly  pillar  of  the  synagogue,  and  with  him 
his  little  boy  of  six.  He  ran  downstairs  and  into  the 
street  and  caught  up  the  boy  in  his  arms — 

"  Oh,  Vidal !"  he  said,  real  affection  struggling  in  his 
voice. 

"■  Thou  !"  said  Josepli,  staggering  with  the  shock,  and 
trembling  at  the  sound  of  his  submerged  name.  Then,  re- 
covering himself,  he  said  angrily,  ''  Pollute  not  my  Daniel 
with  thy  touch." 

"He  is  my  nephew.     I  love  him,  too  !     How  beautiful 

105 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

lie  is  !"  And  he  kissed  the  wondering  little  fellow.  He 
refused  to  put  liim  down.  He  ran  towards  his  own  door. 
He  begged  Vidal  to  give  him  a  word  in  pity  of  his  loneli- 
ness. Josepli  looked  fearfully  up  and  doAvn  the  street.  No 
Jew  was  in  sight.  He  slipped  hastily  through  the  door. 
From  that  moment  Uriel  played  his  portly  brother  like  a 
chess-piece,  which  should  make  complicated  moves  and 
think  it  made  them  of  its  own  free  will.  Gradually,  by 
secret  conversations,  daily  renewed,  Joseph,  fired  with  en- 
thusiam  and  visions  of  the  glory  that  would  redound  upon 
liim  in  the  community — for  he  was  now  a  candidate  for  the 
dignity  of  treasurer  —  won  Uriel  back  to  Judaism.  And 
when  the  faith  of  the  revert  was  quite  fixed,  Joseph  made 
great  talk  thereof,  and  interceded  with  the  Rabbis. 

Uriel  Acosta  was  given  a  document  of  confession  of  his 
errors  to  sign  ;  he  promised  to  live  henceforward  as  a  true 
Jew,  and  the  ban  was  removed.  On  the  Sabbatli  he  went 
to  the  synagogue,  and  was  called  up  to  read  in  the  Law. 
The  elders  came  to  shake  him  by  the  hand  ;  a  Avave  of 
emotion  traversed  the  congregation.  Uriel,  mentally  blink- 
ing at  all  this  novel  sunshine,  had  moments  of  forgetful- 
ness  of  his  sardonic  hypocrisy,  thrilled  to  be  in  touch  with 
humanity  again,  and  moved  by  its  forgiving  good-will.  The 
half-circle  of  almond  and  lemon  trees  from  Portugal,  plant- 
ed in  gaily-painted  tubs  before  the  Holy  Ark,  swelled  his 
breast  with  tender,  tearful  memories  of  youtii  and  tlie  sun- 
lands.  And  as  lanthe's  happy  eyes  smiled  upon  him  from 
the  gallery,  the  words  of  the  Prophet  Joel  sang  in  his  ears  : 
"  And  I  will  restore  to  you  the  years  that  the  locust  hath 
eaten." 

It  was  a  glad  night  Avhen  Dom  Diego  and  lanthe  sat 
again  at  his  table,  religiously  victualled  this  time,  and  with 
them  his  beloved  brother  Joseph,  not  the  least  happy  of  the 
guests  in  the  reconciliation  with  Uriel  and  the  near  pros- 

106 


URIEL    ACQ  STA 

pect  of  the  treasuryship.  What  a  handsome  creature  he 
was !  thought  Uriel  fondly.  How  dignified  in  mannei's, 
yet  how  sprightly  in  converse  ! — no  graven  lines  of  suffer- 
ing on  his  brow,  no  gray  in  his  hair.  The  old  wine  gur- 
gled, the  old  memories  glowed.  Joseph  was  let  into  the 
secret  of  the  engagement — which  was  not  to  be  published 
for  some  months  —  but  was  too  sure  of  the  part  he  had 
played  to  suspect  he  had  been  j^layed  with.  He  sang  the 
Hebrew  grace  jubilantly  after  the  meal,  and  lanthe's  sweet 
voice  chimed  in  happily.  Ere  the  brothers  parted,  Uriel 
had  extracted  a  promise  that  little  Daniel  should  be  lent 
him  for  a  few  days  to  crown  his  hapjiiness  and  brighten  the 
great  lonely  house  for  the  coming  of  the  bride. 


XII 

Uriel  Acosta  sat  at  dinner  with  little  Daniel,  feasting 
his  eyes  on  the  fresh  beauty  of  the  boy,  whose  prattle  had 
made  the  last  two  days  delightful.  Daniel  had  been  great- 
ly exercised  to  find  that  his  great  big  uncle  could  not  talk 
Dutch,  and  that  he  must  talk  Portuguese — which  was  still 
kept  up  in  families — to  be  understood.  He  had  hitlierto 
imagined  that  grown-up  people  knew  everything.  Pedro, 
his  black  face  agrin  with  delight,  waited  solicitously  upon 
the  little  fellow. 

He  changed  his  meat  plate  now,  and  helped  him  lav- 
ishly to  tart.     "  Cream  ?"  said  Uriel,  tendering  the  jug. 

"  No,  no  !"  cried  Daniel,  with  a  look  of  horror  and  a  vio- 
lent movement  of  repulsion. 

Uriel  chuckled.  "  What  !  Little  boys  not  like  cream  ! 
We  shall  find  cats  shuddering  at  milk  next."  And  pour- 
ing the  contents  of  the  jug  lavishly  over  his  own  triangle 
of  tart,  he  went  on  with  his  meal. 

107 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

But  little  Daniel  was  staring  at  him  Avitli  awe  struck 
vision,  forgetting  to  eat. 

"Uncle/'  he  cried  at  last,  "thou  art  not  a  Jew," 

Uriel  laughed  uneasily.  "Little  boys  should  eat  and 
not  talk." 

"  But,  Uncle  !     We  may  not  eat  milk  after  meat." 

"  Well,  well,  then,  little  Eabbi  !"  And  Uriel  pushed  his 
plate  away  and  pinched  the  child's  ear  fondly. 

But  when  the  child  Avent  home  he  prattled  of  his  uncle's 
transgressions,  and  Joseph  hurried  down,  storming  at  this 
misleading  of  his  boy,  and  this  breach  of  promise  to  the 
synagogue.  Uriel  retorted  angrily  with  that  native  candor 
of  his  which  made  it  impossible  for  him  long  to  play  a  part. 

"I  am  but  an  ape  among  apes,"  he  said,  using  his  pet 
private  sophism. 

"  Say  rather  an  ape  among  lynxes,  who  will  spy  thee  out," 
said  Joseph,  more  hotly.  "Thy  double-dealing  will  be 
discovered,  and  I  shall  become  the  laughing-stock  of  the 
congregation." 

It  was  the  beginning  of  a  second  quarrel— fiercer,  bitterer 
than  the  first.  Joseph  deiiounced  Uriel  privily  to  Dom 
Diego,  who  thundered  at  the  heretic  in  his  turn. 

"  I  give  not  my  daughter  to  an  ape,"  he  retorted,  when 
Uriel  had  expounded  himself  as  usual. 

"  lanthe  loves  the  ape  ;  'tis  her  concern,"  Uriel  was 
stung  into  rejoining. 

"  Nay,  'tis  my  concern.  By  Heaven,  I'll  grandsire  no 
gorillasV' 

"  Mcthinks  in  Porto  thou  wast  an  ape  thyself,"  cried 
Uriel,  raging. 

"  Dog  !"  shrieked  the  old  physician,  his  venerable  coun- 
tenance contorted  ;  "  dost  count  it  equal  to  deceive  the 
Christians  and  thine  own  brethren  ?"  And  he  flung  from 
the  house. 

108 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

Uriel  wrote  to  lanthe.     She  replied — 

"Tasked  thee  to  make  thy. peace.  Thou  hast  made 
bitterer  war.  I  cannot  fight  against  my  father  and  all 
Israel.     Farewell  !" 

Uriel's  face  grew  grim  :  the  puckers  in  his  brow  that 
lier  fingers  had  touched  showed  once  more  as  terrible  lines 
of  suffering  ;  his  teeth  were  clenched.  The  old  look  of 
the  hunted  man  came  back.  He  took  out  her  first  note, 
which  he  kept  nearest  his  heart,  and  re-read  it  slowly — 

"  Why  ruin  thy  life  for  a  mere  abstraction  ?  Canst  thou 
not  make  peace  ?" 

A  mere  abstraction  !  Ah  !  Why  had  that  not  warned 
him  of  the  woman's  calibre  ?  Nay,  why  had  he  forgotten 
— and  here  he  had  a  vivid  vision  of  a  little  girl  bringing 
in  Passover  cakes — her  training  in  a  double  life  ?  Not 
that  woman  needed  that — Dom  Diego  was  right.  False, 
frail  creatures  !  No  sympathy  with  principles,  no  recog- 
nition of  the  great  fight  he  had  made.  Tears  of  self-pity 
started  to  his  eyes.  Well,  she  had,  at  least,  saved  him 
from  cowardly  surrender.  The  old  fire  flamed  in  his  veins. 
He  would  fight  to  the  death. 

And  as  he  tore  up  her  notes,  a  strange  sense  of  relief 
minffled  with  the  bitterness  and  fierceness  of  his  mood  ; 
relief  to  think  that  never  again  would  he  be  called  upon  to 
jabber  with  the  apes,  to  grasp  their  loatlily  paws,  to  join 
in  their  solemnly  absurd  posturings,  never  would  he  be 
tempted  from  the  peace  and  seclusion  of  his  book-lined 
study.  The  habits  of  fifteen  years  tugged  him  back  like 
ropes  of  which  he  had  exhausted  the  tether.     . 

He  seated  himself  at  his  desk,  and  took  up  his  pen  to 
resume  his  manuscript.  "All  evils  come  from  not  follow- 
ing Right  Reason  and  the  Law  of  Nature."  He  wrote  on 
for  hours,  pausing  from  time  to  time  to  select  his  Latin 
phrases.      Suddenly  a  hollow  sense  of  the  futility  of  his 

109 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

words,  of  Reason,  of  Nature,  of  everything,  overcame  him. 
What  was  this  dreadful  void  at  his  breast  ?  He  leaned 
his  tired,  aching  head  on  his  desk  and  sobbed,  as  little 
Daniel  had  never  sobbed  yet. 


XIII 

To  the  congregation  at  large,  ignorant  of  these  inner 
quarrels,  the  backsliding  of  Uriel  was  made  clear  by  the 
swine-flesh  which  the  Christian  butcher  now  openly  de- 
livered at  the  house.  Horrified  zealots  remonstrated  with 
him  in  the  streets,  and  once  or  twice  it  came  to  a  public 
affray.  The  outraged  elders  pressed  for  a  renewal  of  the 
ban ;  but  the  Rabbis  hesitated,  thinking  best,  perhaps, 
henceforward  to  ignore  the  thorn  in  their  sides. 

It  happened  that  a  Spaniard  and  an  Italian  came  from 
London  to  seek  admission  into  the  Jewish  fold.  Christian 
sceptics  not  infrequently  finding  peace  in  the  bosom  of  the 
older  faith.  These  would-be  converts,  hearing  the  rumors 
anent  Uriel  Acosta,  bethought  themselves  of  asking  his 
advice.  When  the  House  of  Judgment  heard  that  he  had 
bidden  them  beware  of  the  intolerable  yoke  of  the  Rabbis, 
its  members  felt  that  this  was  too  much.  Uriel  Acosta 
was  again  excommunicated. 

And  now  began  new  years  of  persecution,  more  grievous, 
more  determined  than  ever.  Again  his  house  was  stoned, 
his  name  a  byword,  his  walks  abroad  a  sport  to  the  little 
ones  of  a  new  generation.  And  now  even  the  worst  he 
had  feared  came  to  pass.  Gradually  his  brother,  who  had 
refused  on  various  pretexts  to  liberate  his  capital,  en- 
croached on  his  property.  Uriel  dared  not  complain  to 
the  civil  magistrates,  by  whom  he  was  already  suspect  as 
an    Atheist;    besides,  he    still    knew   no    Dutch,  and    in 

110 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

worldly  matters  Avas  as  a  child.  Only  his  love  for  his 
brother  turned  to  deadly  hate,  which  was  scarcely  inten- 
sified Avhen  Joseph  led  lanthe  under  the  marriage  canopy. 

So  seven  terrible  years  passed,  and  Uriel,  the  lonely,  pre- 
maturely aged,  found  himself  sinking  into  melancholia. 
He  craved  for  human  companionship,  and  the  thought  that 
he  could  find  it  save  among  Jews  never  occurred  to  him. 
And  at  last  he  humbled  himself,  and  again  sought  for- 
giveness of  the  synagogue. 

But  this  time  he  was  not  to  be  readmitted  into  the  fold 
so  lightly.  Imitating  the  gloomy  forms  of  the  Inquisition, 
from  which  they  had  suffered  so  much,  the  elders  joined 
with  the  Rabbis  in  devising  a  penance,  which  would  brand 
the  memory  of  the  heretic's  repentance  upon  the  minds  of 
his  generation. 

Uriel  consented  to  the  penance,  scarcely  knowing  what 
they  asked  of  him.  Anything  rather  than  another  day  of 
loneliness  ;  so  into  the  great  synagogue,  densely  filled  with 
men  and  women,  the  penitent  was  led,  clothed  in  a  black 
mourning  garb  and  holding  a  black  candle.  He  Avhose 
earliest  dread  had  been  to  be  shamed  before  men,  was 
made  to  mount  a  raised  stage,  wherefrom  he  read  a  long 
scroll  of  recantation,  confessing  all  his  ritual  sins  and  all 
his  intellectual  errors,  and  promising  to  live  till  death  as 
a  true  Jew.  The  Chacham,  who  stood  near  the  sexton, 
solemnly  intoned  from  the  seventy-eighth  Psalm  :  "  But 
He,  being  full  of  compassion,  forgave  their  iniquity  and 
destroyed  them  not :  yea,  many  a  time  turned  He  his  anger 
away  and  did  not  stir  up  all  his  wrath.  For  He  remem- 
bered that  they  were  but  flesh  :  a  wind  that  joasseth  away 
and  cometh  not  again." 

He  whispered  to  Uriel,  who  went  to  a  corner  of  the 
synagogue,  stripped  as  far  as  the  girdle,  and  received  with 
dumb  lips  thirty-nine  lashes  from  a  scourge.'  Then,  bleed- 
Ill 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

ing,  he  sat  on  the  ground,  and  heard  the  ban  solemnly 
removed.  Finally,  donning  his  garments,  he  stretched 
himself  across  the  threshold,  and  the  congregation  passed 
out  over  his  body,  some  kicking  it  in  pious  loathing,  some 
trampling  on  it  viciously.  The  penitent  remained  rigid, 
his  face  pressed  to  the  ground.  Only,  when  his  brother 
Joseph  trampled  upon  him,  he  knew  by  subtle  memories 
of  his  tread  and  breathing  who  the  coward  Avas. 

When  the  last  of  the  congregants  had  passed  over  his 
body,  Uriel  arose  and  went  through  the  pillared  portico, 
speaking  no  Avord.  The  congregants,  standing  in  groups 
about  the  canal-bridge,  still  discussing  the  terrible  scene, 
moved  aside,  shuddering,  silenced,  as  like  a  somnambulist 
that  strange  figure  went  by,  the  shoulders  thrown  back, 
the  head  high,  in  superb  jDride,  the  nostrils  quivering, 
but  the  face  as  that  of  the  dead.  Never  more  was  he  seen 
of  men.  Shut  up  in  his  study,  he  worked  feverishly  day 
and  night,  writing  his  autobiography.  Exemplar  Humanae 
Vitae — an  Ensample  of  Human  Life,  he  called  it,  with 
tragic  pregnancy.  Scarcely  a  word  of  what  the  world  calls 
a  man's  life — only  the  dry  account  of  his  abstract  thought, 
of  his  progress  to  broader  standpoints,  to  that  great  dis- 
covery— "All  evils  come  from  not  following  Right  Reason 
and  the  Law  of  Nature."  And  therewith  a  virulent  de- 
nunciation of  Judaism  and  its  Rabbis:  "They  Avould 
crucify  Jesus  even  now  if  He  appeared  again."  And, 
garnering  the  wisdom  of  his  life-experience,  he  bade  every 
man  love  his  neighbor,  not  because  God  bids  him,  but  by 
virtue  of  being  a  man.  AVhat  Judaism,  what  Christianity 
contains  of  truth  belongs  not  to  revealed,  but  to  natural 
religion.  Love  is  older  than  Moses;  it  binds  men  together. 
The  Law  of  ]\Ioses  separates  them  :  one  brings  harmony, 
the  other  discord  into  human  society. 

His  task  was'druwing  to  an  end.     His  long  fight  with 

112 


URIEL    ACOSTA 

the  Rabbis  was  ending,  too.  "  My  cause  is  as  far  supe- 
rior to  theirs  as  truth  is  more  excellent  than  falsehood  : 
for  whereas  they  are  advocates  for  a  fraud  that  they  may 
make  a  prey  and  slaves  of  men,  I  contend  nobly  in  the 
cause  of  Truth,  and  assert  the  natural  rights  of  mankind, 
whom  it  becomes  to  live  suitably  to.  the  dignity  of  their 
nature,  free  from  the  burden  of  superstitions  and  vain 
ceremonies." 

It  was  done.  lie  laid  down  his  quill  and  loaded  his  pair 
of  silver-mounted  pistols.  Then  he  placed  himself  at  the 
window  as  of  yore,  to  watch  in  his  two  mirrors  for  the 
passing  of  his  brother  Joseph.  He  knew  his  hand  would 
not  fail  him.  The  days  wore  on,  but  each  sunrise  found 
him  at  his  post,  as  it  was  reflected  sanguinarily  in  those 
fatal  mirrors. 

One  afternoon  Joseph  came,  but  Daniel  Avas  with  him. 
And  Uriel  laid  down  his  pistol  and  waited,  for  he  yet  loved 
the  boy.  And  another  time  Joseph  passed  by  withlanthe. 
And  Uriel  waited. 

But  the  third  time  Joseph  came  alone.  Gabriel's  heart 
gave  a  great  leap  of  exultation.  He  turned,  took  careful 
aim,  and  fired.  The  shot  rang  through  the  startled  neigh- 
borhood, but  Joseph  fled  in  panic,  uninjured,  shouting. 

Uriel  dropped  his  pistol,  half  in  surprise  at  his  failure, 
half  in  despairing  resignation. 

"  There  is  no  justice,"  he  murmured.  How  gray  the  sky 
was  !     What  a  cold,  bleak  world  ! 

He  went  to  the  door  and  bolted  it.  Then  he  took  up 
the  second  pistol.  Irrelevantly  he  noted  the  "  G."  graven 
on  it.  Gabriel !  Gabriel  !  "What  memories  his  old  name 
brought  back  !  There  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  Why  had 
he  changed  to  Uriel  ?  Gabriel  !  Gabriel  !  Was  that  his 
mother's  voice  calling  him,  as  she  had  called  him  in  sunny 
Portugal,  amid  the  vines  and  the  olive-trees  ? 
H  113 


.       DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Worn  out,  world-weary,  aged  far  beyond  his  years,  beaten 
in  the  long  fight,  despairing  of  justice  on  earth  and  hope- 
less of  any  heaven,  Uriel  Acosta  leaned  droopingly  against 
his  beloved  desk,  put  the  pistol's  cold  muzzle  to  his  fore- 
head, pressed  the  trigger,  and  fell  dead  across  the  open 
pages  of  his  Exemplar  Humanae  Vitae,  the  thin,  curling 
smoke  lingering  a  little  ere  it  dissipated,  like  the  futile 
spirit  of  a  passing  creature — ^'a  wind  that  passeth  away 
and  Cometh  not  again." 


THE    TUKKISH   MESSIAH 


SCROLL  THE  FIRST 


In  the  year  of  the  world  five  thousand  four  hundred  and 
eight,  sixteen  hundred  and  forty-eight  years  after  the  com- 
ing of  Christ,  and  in  the  twenty-third  year  of  his  own  life 
on  earth,  Sabbatai  Zevi,  men  said,  declared  himself  at 
Smyrna  to  his  disciples — the  long-expected  Messiah  of  the 
Jews.  They  were  gathered  together  in  the  winter  mid- 
night, a  little  group  of  turbaned,  long-robed  figures,  the 
keen  stars  innumerable  overhead,  the  sea  stretching  som- 
brely at  their  feet,  and  the  swarming  Oriental  city,  a  black 
mystery  of  roofs,  minarets,  and  cypresses,  dominated  by 
the  Acropolis,  asleep  on  the  slopes  of  its  snow-clad  hill. 

Anxiously  they  had  awaited  their  Prophet's  emergence 
from  his  penitential  lustration  in  the  icy  harbor,  and  as  he 
now  stood  before  them  in  naked  majesty,  the  water  drip- 
ping from  his  black  beard  and  hair,  a  perfect  manly  figure, 
scarred  only  by  self-inflicted  scourgings,  awe  and  wonder 
held  them  breathless  with  expectation.  Inhaling  that 
strange  fragrance  of  divinity  that  breathed  from  his  body, 
and  penetrated  by  the  kingliness  of  his  mien,  the  passion- 
ate yet  spiritual  beauty  of  his  dark,  dreamy  face,  they 
awaited  the  great  declaration.     Some  common  instinct  told 

115 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

them  that  he  would  speak  to-night,  he,  the  master  of  mys- 
tic silences. 

Tlic  ZoJiar — that  inspired  book  of  occult  Avisdom  —  had 
long  since  foretold  this  year  as  the  first  of  the  epoch  of  re- 
generation, and  ever  since  the  shrill  ram's  horn  had  heralded 
its  birth,  the  souls  of  Sabbatai  Zevi's  disciples  had  been 
tense  for  the  great  moment.  Surely  it  was  to  announce 
himself  at  last  that  he  had  summoned  them,  blessed  par- 
takers in  the  greatest  moment  of  human  and  divine  history. 

What  would  he  say  ? 

Austere,  silent,  hedged  by  an  inviolable  sanctity,  he  stood 
long  motionless,  realizing,  his  followers  felt,  the  Cabalis- 
tic teaching  as  to  the  Messiah,  incarnating  the  Godhead 
through  the  primal  Adam,  pure,  sinless,  at  one  with  him- 
self and  elemental  Nature.  At  last  he  raised  his  luminous 
eyes  heavenwards,  and  said  in  clear,  calm  tones  one  word — 

Yahweh ! 

He  had  uttered  the  dread,  forbidden  Name  of  God.  For 
an  instant  the  turbaned  figures  stood  rigid  with  awe,  their 
blood  cold  with  an  ineffable  terror,  then  as  they  became 
conscious  again  of  the  stars  glittering  on,  the  sea  plashing 
unruffled,  the  earth  still  solid  under  their  feet,  a  great 
hoarse  shout  of  holy  joy  flew  up  to  the  shining  stars. 
"  Messhlach!    Messhiach  !    The  Messiah  I" 

The  Kingdom  was  come. 

The  Messianic  Era  had  begun. 


II 

How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long  ? 

That  desolate  cry  of  the  centuries  would  be  heard  no 
more. 

While  Israel  was  dispersed  and  the  world  full  of  sin,  the 

116 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

higher  and  lower  worlds  had  been  parted,  and  the  fonr  let- 
ters of  God's  name  had  been  dissevered,  not  to  be  pro- 
nounced in  unison.  For  God  Himself  had  been  made  im- 
perfect by  the  impeding  of  His  moral  purjiose. 

But  the  Messiah  had  pronounced  the  Tetragrammaton, 
and  God  and  the  Creation  were  One  again.  0  mystic  trans- 
port !  0  ecstatic  reunion  I  The  joyous  shouts  died  into  a 
more  beatific  silence. 

From  some  near  mosque  there  broke  upon  the  midnight 
air  the  solemn  voice  of  the  inueddin  chanting  the  addn — 

"  God  is  most  great.  I  testify  that  there  is  no  God  but 
God.     I  testify  that  Mohammed  is  God's  Prophet.'^ 

Sabbatai  shivered.  Was  it  the  cold  air  or  some  indefina- 
ble foreboding  ? 

Ill 

It  was  the  day  of  Messianic  dreams.  In  the  century 
that  was  over,  strange  figures  had  appeared  of  prophets 
and  martyrs  and  Hebrew  visionaries.  From  obscurity  and 
the  far  East  came  David  Reubeni,  journeying  to  Italy  by 
way  of  Nubia  to  obtain  firearms  to  rid  Palestine  of  the 
Moslem  —  a  dark-faced  dwarf,  made  a  skeleton  by  fasts, 
riding  on  his  white  horse  up  to  the  Vatican  to  demand  an 
interview,  and  graciously  received  by  Pope  Clement.  In 
Portugal — where  David  Reubeni,  heralded  by  a  silken 
standard  worked  with  the  Ten  Commandments,  had  been 
received  by  the  King  with  an  answering  pageantry  of  ban- 
ners and  processions  —  a  Marrano  maiden  had  visions  of 
Moses  and  the  angels,  undertook  to  lead  her  suffering  kins- 
folk to  the  Holy  Land,  and  was  burnt  by  the  Inquisition. 
Diogo  Pires  —  handsome  and  brilliant  and  young,  and  a 
Christian  by  birth — returned  to  the  faith  of  his  fathers, 
and,  under  the  name  cf  Solomon  Molcho,  passed  his  brief 

117 


DREAMERS    0  P^    THE    GHETTO 

life  in  quest  of  prophetic  ecstasies  and  the  pangs  of  martyr- 
dom. He  sought  to  convert  the  Pope  to  Judaism,  and 
jiredicting  a  great  flood  at  Rome,  which  came  to  pass,  with 
destructive  earthquakes  at  Lisbon,  was  honored  by  the 
Vatican,  only  to  meet  a  joyful  death  at  Mantua,  where,  by 
order  of  the  Emperor,  he  was  thrown  upon  the  blazing 
funeral  pyre.  And  in  these  restless  and  terrible  times  for 
the  Jews,  inward  dreams  mingled  with  these  outward  por- 
tents. The  Zoliar  —  the  Book  of  Illumination,  composed 
in  the  thirteenth  century  —  printed  now  for  the  first  time, 
shed  its  dazzling  rays  further  and  further  over  every  Ghetto. 
The  secrets  reserved  for  the  days  of  the  Messiah  had 
been  revealed  in  it :  Elijah,  all  the  celestial  conclave, 
angels,  spirits,  liigher  souls,  and  the  Ten  Spiritual  Sub- 
stances had  united  to  inspire  its  composers,  teach  them 
the  bi-sexual  nature  of  the  World-Principle,  and  discover 
to  them  the  true  significance  of  the  Torah  (Law),  hitherto 
hidden  in  the  points  and  strokes  of  the  Pentateuch,  in  its 
vowels  and  accents,  and  even  in  the  potential  transmuta- 
tions of  the  letters  of  its  words.  Lurya,  the  great  German 
Egyptian  Cabalist,  with  Vital,  the  Italian  alchemist,  so- 
journed to  the  grave  of  Simon  bar  Yochai,  its  fabled  au- 
thor. Lurya  himself,  who  preferred  the  silence  and  loneli- 
ness of  the  Nile  counti'y  to  the  noise  of  the  Talmud-School, 
who  dressed  in  white  on  Sabbath,  and  wore  a  fourfold  gar- 
ment to  signify  the  four  letters  of  the  Ineffable  Name,  and 
who  by  pcrmutating  these,  could  draw  down  spirits  from 
Heaven,  passed  as  the  Messiah  of  the  Race  of  Joseph,  pre- 
cursor of  the  true  Messiah  of  the  Race  of  David.  The 
times  were  ripe.  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand," 
cried  the  Cabalists  with  one  voice.  The  Jews  had  suffered 
so  much  and  so  long.  Decimated  for  not  dying  of  the 
Black  Death,  pillaged  and  murdered  by  the  Crusaders, 
hounded  remorselessly  from  Spain  and  Portugal,  roasted 

118 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

by  thonsands  at  the  autosrda-fe  of  the  Inquisition,  every- 
Avhere  branded  and  degraded,  what  wonder  if  they  felt 
that  their  cup  was  full,  that  redemption  was  at  hand,  that 
the  Lord  would  save  Israel  and  set  His  people  in  triumph 
over  the  heathen!  "I  believe  with  a  perfect  faith  that 
the  Messiah  Avill  come,  and  though  His  coming  be  delayed, 
nevertheless  will  I  daily  expect  Him." 

So  ran  their  daily  creed. 

In  Turkey  what  time  the  Jews  bore  themselves  proudly, 
rivalling  the  Venetians  in  the  shipping  trade,  and  the 
Grand  Viziers  in  the  beauty  of  their  houses,  gardens,  and 
kiosks  ;  when  Joseph  was  Duke  of  Naxos,  and  Solomon 
Ashkenazi  Envoy  Extraordinary  to  Venice  ;  when  Tiberias 
was  turned  into  a  new  Jerusalem  and  planted  Avith  niul-. 
berry-trees ;  when  prosperous  physicians  wrote  elegant 
Latin  verses  ;  in  those  days  the  hope  of  the  Messiah  was 
faint  and  dim.  But  it  flamed  up  fiercely  enough  Avhen 
their  strength  and  prestige  died  down  with  that  of  the 
Empire,  and  the  harem  and  the  Janissaries  divided  power 
with  the  Praetorians  of  the  Spahis,  and  the  Jews  were  the 
first  objects  of  oppression  ready  to  the  hand  of  the  un- 
loosed pashas,  and  the  black  turban  marked  them  off  from 
the  Moslem.  It  was  a  Eabbi  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  who 
wrote  the  religious  code  of  "The  Ordered  Table"  to  unify 
Israel  and  hasten  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  and  his  dicta 
were  accejited  far  and  wide. 

And  not  only  did  Israel  dream  of  the  near  Messiah,  the 
rumor  of  Him  was  abroad  among  the  nations.  Men  looked 
again  to  the  mysterious  Orient,  the  cradle  of  the  Divine. 
In  the  far  isle  of  England  sober  Puritans  were  awaiting  the 
Millennium  and  the  Fifth  Monarchy  of  the  Apocalypse — 
the  four  "beasts"  of  the  Babylonian,  Persian,  Greek,  and 
Roman  monarchies  having  already  passed  away — and  when 
Manasseh  ben  Israel  of  Amsterdam  petitioned  Cromwell  to 

119 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

readmit  the  Jews,  his  plea  was  that  thereby  they  might  be 
dispersed  through  all  nations,  and  the  Biblical  prophecies 
as  to  the  eve  of  the  Messianic  age  be  thus  fulfilled.  Verily, 
the  times  were  ripe  for  the  birth  of  a  Messiah. 


IV 

He  had  been  strange  and  solitary  from  childhood,  this 
saintly  son  of  the  Smyrniote  commission  agent.  He  had 
no  playmates,  none  of  the  habits  of  the  child.  He  would 
wander  about  the  city's  steep  bustling  alleys  that  seemed 
hewn  in  a  great  rock,  or  through  the  long,  wooden-roofed 
bazaars,  seeming  to  heed  the  fantastically  colored  spectacle 
as  little  as  the  garbage  under  foot,  or  the  trains  of  gigantic 
camels,  at  the  sound  of  whose  approaching  bells  he  would 
mechanically  flatten  himself  against  the  wall.  And  yet  he 
must  have  been  seeing,  for  if  he  chanced  upon  anything 
that  suffered — a  child,  a  lean  dog,  a  cripple,  a  leper — his 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  At  times  he  would  stand  on  the 
brink  of  the  green  gulf  and  gaze  seawards  long  and  yearn- 
ingly, and  sometimes  he  would  lie  for  hours  upon  the  sud- 
den plain  that  stretched  lonely  behind  the  dense  port. 

In  the  little  congested  school-room  where  hundreds  of 
children  clamored  Hebrew  at  once  he  was  equally  alone  ; 
and  when,  a  brilliant  youth,  he  headed  the  lecture-class  of 
the  illustrious  Talmudist,  Joseph  Eskapha,  his  mental  at- 
titude preserved  the  same  aloofness.  Quicker  than  his  fel- 
lows he  grasped  the  casuistical  hair-splittings  in  which  the 
Rabbis  too  often  indulged,  but  his  contempt  was  as  quick 
as  his  comprehension.  A  note  of  revolt  pierced  early 
through  his  class-room  replies,  and  very  soon  he  threw 
over  these  barren  subtleties  to  sink  himself — at  a  tenderer 
age  tiian  tradition  knew  of — in  the  spiritual  mysticisms, 

120 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

the  poetic  fervors,  and  the  self-martyrdomS  of  the  Cabal- 
istic literature.  The  transmigrations  of  souls,  mystic  mar- 
riages, the  summoning  of  spirits,  the  creation  of  the  world 
by  means  of  attributes,  or  how  tbe  Grodhead  had  concen- 
trated itself  within  itself  in  order  to  unfold  the  finite  Many 
from  the  infinite  One  ;  such  were  the  favorite  studies  of 
the  brooding  youth  of  fifteen. 

"  Learning  shall  be  my  life,"  he  said  to  his  father. 

"Thy  life  !  But  what  shall  be  thy  livelihood  ?"  replied 
Mordecai  Zevi.     "Thy  elder  brothers  are  both  at  work." 

"So  much  more  need  that  one  of  thy  family  should  con- 
secrate himself  to  God,  to  call  down  a  blessing  on  the  work 
of  the  others." 

Mordecai  Zevi  shook  his  head.  In  his  olden  days,  in  the 
Morea,  he  had  known  the  bitterness  of  poverty.  But  he 
was  beginning  to  prosper  now,  like  so  many  of  his  kins- 
men, since  Sultan  Ibrahim  had  waged  war  against  the 
Venetians,  and,  by  imperilling  the  trade  of  the  Levant, 
had  driven  the  Dutch  and  English  merchants  to  transfer 
their  ledgers  from  Constantinople  to  Smyrna.  The  English 
house  of  which  Mordecai  had  obtained  the  agency  was  wax- 
ing rich,  and  he  in  its  wake,  and  so  he  could  afford  to 
have  a  scholar-son.  He  made  no  further  demur,  and  even 
allowed  his  house  to  become  the  seat  of  learning  in  which 
Sabbatai  and  nine  chosen  companions  studied  the  Zohar 
and  the  Cabahih  from  dawn  to  darkness.  Often  they 
would  desert  the  divan  for  the  wooden  garden-balcony 
overlooking  the  oranges  and  the  prune-trees.  And  the 
richer  Mordecai  grew,  the  greater  grew  liis  veneration  for 
his  son,  to  whose  merits,  and  not  to  his  own  diligence  and 
honesty,  he  ascribed  his  good  fortune. 

"  If  the  sins  of  tlie  fathers  are  visited  on  the  children," 
he  was  wont  to  say,  "  then  surely  the  good  deeds  of  the 
children  are  repaid  to  the  fathers."    His  marked  reverence 

121 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

for  his  wonderful  son  spread  ontwards,  and  Sabbatai  be- 
came the  object  of  a  wistful  worshi]^,  of  a  wild  surmise. 

Something  of  that  Avild  surmise  seemed  to  the  father  to 
flash  into  his  son's  own  eyes  one  day  Avhen,  returned  from 
a  great  journey  to  his  English  principals,  Mordecai  Zevi 
spoke  of  the  Fifth  Monarchy  men  who  foretold  the  coming 
of  the  Messiah  and  the  Restoration  of  the  Jews  in  the  year 
1G66. 

"  Father  I"  said  the  boy.  "  Will  not  the  Messiah  be  born 
on  the  ninth  of  Ab  ?" 

"  Of  a  surety,"  replied  Mordecai,  with  beating  heart. 
*'  He  will  be  born  on  the  fatal  date  of  the  destruction  of 
both  our  Temples,  in  token  of  consolation,  as  it  is  written  ; 
'and  I  will  cause  the  captivity  of  Judah  and  the  captivity 
of  Israel  to  return,  and  will  build  them,  as  at  the  first.'" 

Tlie  boy  relapsed  into  his  wonted  silence.  But  one 
thought  possessed  father  and  son.  Sabbatai  had  been  born 
on  the  ninth  of  Ab — on  the  great  Black  Fast. 

The  wonder  grew  when  the  boy  was  divorced  from  his 
wife — the  beautiful  Channah.  Obediently  marrying — after 
the  custom  of  the  day — the  maiden  provided  by  his  father, 
the  young  ascetic  passionately  denied  himself  to  the  pas- 
sion ripened  precociously  by  the  Eastern  sun,  and  the  mar- 
velling Beth-Din  (House  of  Judgment)  released  the  virgin 
from  her  nominal  liusband.  Prayer  and  self-mortification 
were  the  pleasures  of  his  youth.  The  enchanting  Jewesses 
of  Smyrna,  picturesque  in  baggy  trousers  and  open-necked 
vests,  had  no  seduction  for  him,  tliough  no  muslin  veil  hid 
their  piquant  countenances  as  with  the  Turkish  women, 
though  no  prescription  silenced  their  sweet  voices  in  the 
psalmody  of  the  table,  as  among  the  sin-fearing  congrega- 
tions of  the  West.  In  vain  the  maidens  stuck  roses  under 
their  ear  or  wore  honeysuckle  in  their  hair  to  denote  their 
willingness  to  be  led  under  the  canopy.     But  Mordecai, 

123 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

anxions  that  he  should  fulfil  the  law,  according  to  which 
to  be  celibate  is  to  live  in  sin,  found  him  a  second  mate, 
even  more  beautiful ;  but  the  youth  remained  silently 
callous,  and  was  soon  restored  afresh  to  his  solitary 
state. 

"Now  shall  the  Torah  (Law)  be  my  only  bride,"  he  said. 

Blind  to  the  beauty  of  womanhood,  the  young,  hand- 
some, and  now  rich  Sabbatai,  went  his  lonely,  parsimonious 
way,  and  a  wondering  band  followed  him,  scarcely  dis- 
turbing his  loneliness  by  their  reverential  companionship. 
AYhen  he  entered  the  sea,  morning  and  night,  summer  and 
winter,  all  stood  far  off  ;  by  day  he  would  pray  at  the  foun- 
tain which  the  Christians  called  Sancta  Veneranda,  near  to 
the  cemetery  of  the  Jews,  and  he  would  stretch  himself  at 
night  across  the  graves  of  the  righteous  in  a  silent  agony 
of  appeal,  while  the  jackals  barked  in  the  lonely  darkness 
and  the  wind  soughed  in  the  mountain  gorges. 

But  at  times  he  would  speak  to  his  followers  of  the  Di- 
vine mysteries  and  of  the  rigorous  asceticism  by  which 
alone  these  were  to  be  reached  and  men  to  be  regenerated 
and  the  Kingdom  to  be  won  ;  and  sometimes  he  Avould 
sing  to  them  Spanish  songs  in  his  sweet,  troubling  voice — 
strange  Cabalistic  verses,  composed  by  himself  or  Lurya, 
and  set  to  sad,  haunting  melodies  yearning  with  mystic 
passion.  And  in  these  songs  the  Avomanhood  he  had  re- 
jected came  back  in  amorous  strains  that  recalled  the  Song 
of  Songs,  which  is  Solomon's,  and  seemed  to  his  disciples 
to  veil  as  deep  an  allegory  : — 

"There  the  Emperor's  daughter 
Lay  agleam  in  the  water, 

Melissehhi. 
And  its  breast  to  her  breast 
Lay  in  tremulous  rest, 
Melissehla. 
123 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

From  her  bath  she  arose 
Pure  aud  white  as  the  snows, 

Melisselda. 
Coral  only  at  lips 
And  at  sweet  fingertips, 

Melisselda. 
In  the  pride  of  her  race 
As  a  sword  slione  her  face, 

Melisselda. 
And  her  lips  were  steel  bows, 
But  her  mouth  was  a  rose, 

Melisselda." 

And  in  the  eyes  of  the  tranced  listeners  were  tears  of  wor- 
ship) for  Melisselda  as  for  the  Messiah's  mystic  Bride. 


AiSTD  while  the  silent  Sabbatai  said  no  word  of  Messiah 
or  mission,  no  word  save  the  one  word  on  the  seashore,  his 
disciples,  first  secret,  then  bold,  spread  throughout  Smyrna 
the  news  of  the  Messiah's  advent. 

They  were  not  all  young,  these  first  followers  of  Sab- 
batai.  No  one  proclaimed  him  more  ardently  than  the 
grave,  elderly  man  of  science,  Moses  Pinhero.  But  the 
sceptics  far  outnumbered  the  believers.  Sabbatai  was 
scouted  as  a  madman.  The  Jewry  was  torn  by  dissensions 
and  disturbances.  But  Sabbatai  took  no  part  in  them.  He 
had  no  communion  with  the  bulk  of  his  brethren,  save  in 
religious  ceremonies,  and  for  these  he  would  go  to  the 
poorest  houses  in  the  most  noisome  courts.  It  was  in  a 
house  of  one  room,  the  raised  part  of  which,  covered  with 
a  strip  of  carpet,  made  the  bed-  and  living-room,  and  the 
unraised  part  the  kitchen,  that  his  next  manifestation  of 
occult  power  was  made.     The  ceremony  was  the  circum- 

124 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

cisiou  of  the  first-born  son,  but  as  the  Moliel  (surgeon)  was 
about  to  operate  he  asked  him  to  stay  his  hand  awhile. 
Half  an  hour  passed. 

"  Why  are  we  waiting  ?"  the  guests  ventured  to  ask  of 
him  at  last. 

"  Elijah  the  Prophet  has  not  yet  taken  his  seat/'  he 
said. 

Presently  he  made  a  sign  that  the  proceedings  might  be 
resumed.  They  stared  in  reverential  awe  at  the  untenant- 
ed chair,  where  only  the  inspired  vision  of  Sabbatai  could 
perceive  the  celestial  form  of  the  ancient  Prophet. 

But  the  ancient  Talmudical  college  frowned  upon  the 
new  Prophet,  particularly  when  his  disciples  bruited  abroad 
his  declaration  on  the  sea-shore.  He  was  cited  before  the 
Ghachamim  ( Rabbi s) . 

"  Thou  didst  dare  pronounce  the  ineffable  Name  \"  cried 
Joseph  Eskapha,  his  old  Master.  "  What  !  Shall  thy  un- 
consecrated  lips  pollute  the  sacred  letters  that  even  in  the 
time  of  Israel's  glory  only  the  High  Priest  might  breathe 
in  the  Holy  of  Holies  on  the  Day  of  Atonement !" 

"'Tis  a  divine  mystery  known  to  me  alone/' said  Sab- 
batai. 

But  the  Rabbis  shook  their  heads  and  laid  the  ban  upon 
him  and  his  disciples.  A  strange  radiance  came  in  Sab- 
batai's  face.  He  betook  himself  to  the  fountain  and 
prayed. 

''I  thank  Thee,  0  my  Father/'  he  said,  "inasmuch  as 
Thou  hast  revealed  myself  to  myself.  Now  I  know  that 
my  own  penances  have  not  been  in  vain." 

But  the  excommunication  of  the  Sabbatians  did  not 
quiet  the  commotion  in  the  Jewish  quarter  of  Smyrna,  fed 
by  Millennial  dreams  from  the  West.  In  England,  indeed, 
a  sect  of  Old  Testament  Christians  had  arisen,  working  for 
the  adoption  of  the  Mosaic  Code  as  the  law  of  the  State. 

125 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

From  laud  to  land  of  Christendom,  on  the  feverish  lips 
of  eager  believers,  passed  the  rumor  of  the  imminence  of 
the  Messiah  of  the  Jews.  According  to  some  he  would  ap- 
pear before  the  Grand  Seignior  in  June,  1666,  take  from 
him  his  crown  by  force  of  music  only,  and  lead  him  in 
chains  like  a  captive.  Then  for  nine  months  he  would 
disappear,  the  Jews  meanwhile  enduring  martyrdom,  but 
he  would  return,  mounted  on  a  Celestial  Lion,  with  his 
bridle  made  of  seven-headed  serpents,  leading  back  the 
lost  ten  .tribes  from  beyond  the  river  Sambatyon,  and  he 
should  be  acknowledged  for  Solomon,  King  of  the  Uni- 
verse, and  the  Holy  Temple  should  descend  from  Heaven 
already  built,  that  the  Jews  might  offer  sacrifice  therein 
for  ever.  But  these  hopes  found  no  lodgment  in  the 
breasts  of  the  Jewish  governors  of  the  Smyrniote  quarter, 
where  hard-headed  Sephardim  were  busy  in  toil  and  traffic, 
working  with  their  hands,  or  shipping  freights  of  figs  or 
valonea ;  as  for  the  Schnorrers,  the  beggars  who  lived  by 
other  people's  wits,  they  were  even  more  hard-headed  than 
the  workers.  Hence  constant  excitements  and  wordy  wars, 
till  at  last  the  authorities  banished  the  already  outlawed 
Sabbatai  from  Smyrna.  When  he  heard  the  decree  he 
said,  "  Is  Israel  not  in  exile  ?"  He  took  farewell  of  his 
brothers  and  of  his  father,  now  grown  decrepit  in  his  body 
and  full  of  the  gout  and  other  infirmities. 

"Thou  hast  brought  me  wealth,"  said  old  Mordecai, 
sobbing;  "but  now  I  had  rather  lose  my  wealth  than  thee. 
Lo,  I  am  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  my  saintly  son 
will  not  close  mine  eyes,  nor  know  when  to  say  Kaddish 
(mourning  prayer)  over  my  departed  soul." 

"  Nay,  weep  not,  my  father,"  said  Sabbatai.  "The  souls 
depart — but  they  will  return." 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 


VI 

He  wandered  through  the  Orient,  everywhere  gaining 
followers,  everywhere  discredited.  Constantinople  saw 
him,  and  Athens,  Thessalonica  and  Cairo. 

For  the  Jew  alone  travel  was  easy  in  those  days.  The 
scatterings  of  his  race  were  everywhere.  The  bond  of  blood 
secured  welcome  :  Hebrew  provided  a  common  tongue. 
The  scholar-guest,  in  especial,  was  hailed  in  flowery  He- 
brew as  a  crown  sent  to  decorate  the  head  of  his  host. 
Sumptuously  entertained,  he  was  laden  with  gifts  on  his 
departure,  the  caravan  he  was  to  join  found  for  him,  the 
cost  defrayed,  and  even  his  ransom,  should  he  unhappily 
be  taken  captive  by  robbers. 

At  the  Ottoman  capital  the  exile  had  a  mingled  reception. 
In  the  great  Jewish  quarter  of  Haskeui,  with  its  swarming 
population  of  small  traders,  he  found  many  adherents 
and  many  adversaries.  Constantinople  was  a  nest  of  free- 
lances and  adventurers.  Abraham  Yachiny,  the  illustrious 
preacher,  an  early  believer,  was  inspired  to  have  a  tomb 
opened  in  the  ancient  ''house  of  life."  He  asked  the 
sceptical  llabbis  to  dig  up  the  earth.  They  found  it  ex- 
ceedingly hard  to  the  spade,  but,  persevering,  presently 
came  upon  an  earthen  pot  and  therein  a  parchment  which 
ran  thus  :  "  I,  Abraham,  was  shut  up  for  forty  years  in  a 
cave.  I  wondered  that  the  time  of  miracles  did  not  ar- 
rive. Then  a  voice  replied  to  me:  'A  son  shall  be  born 
in  the  year  of  the  world  5386  and  be  called  Sabbatai.  He 
shall  quell  the  great  dragon  ;  he  is  the  true  Messiah,  and 
shall  wage  war  without  weapons.'  " 

Verily  Avithout  Aveapons  did  Sabbatai  wage  war,  almost 
without  words.  Not  even  the  ancient  Parchment  con- 
vinced the  scoffers,  but  Sabbatai  took  note  of  it  as  little 

137 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

as  they.  To  none  did  he  proclaim  himself.  His  tall,  ma- 
jestic figure,  with  its  sweeping  black  beard,  was  discerned 
in  the  dusk,  passionately  pleading  at  the  graves  of  the 
pions.  He  was  seen  at  dawn  standing  motionless  npon  his 
bulging  wooden  balcony  that  gave  upon  the  Golden  Horn. 
When  he  was  not  fasting,  none  but  the  plainest  food  passed 
his  lips.  He  flagellated  himself  daily.  Little  children 
took  to  him,  and  he  showered  sweetmeats  npon  them  and 
winning  smiles  of  love.  AVhen  he  walked  the  refuse-laden, 
deep-rutted  streets,  slow  and  brooding,  jostled  by  porters, 
asses,  dervishes,  sheiks,  scribes,  fruit-pedlars,  shrouded  fe- 
males, and  beggars,  something  more  than  the  sombreness 
of  his  robes  marked  him  out  from  the  medley  of  rajnbow- 
colored  pedestrians.  Turkish  beauties  peered  through  their 
yashmaks,  cross-legged  craftsmen  smoking  their  narghiles 
raised  their  heads  as  he  passed  through  the  arched  aisles 
oi  the  Great  Bazaar.  Once  he  wandered  into  the  slave- 
market,  where  fair  Circassians  and  Georgians  were  being 
stripped  to  furnish  the  Kiosks  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  he 
grew  hot-eyed  for  the  corrupt  chaos  of  life  in  the  capital, 
with  its  gorgeous  pachas  and  loathly  cripples,  its  countless 
mosques  and  brothels,  its  cruel  cadis  and  foolish  dancing 
dervishes.  And  Avhen  an  angry  Mussulman,  belaboring  his 
ass,  called  it  "Jew  I"  his  heart  burnt  with  righteous  anger. 
Verily,  only  Israel  had  chosen  Righteousness  —  one  little 
nation,  the  remnant  that  would  save  the  world,  and  bring 
about  the  Kingdom  of  God.  But  alas !  Israel  herself  was 
yet  full  of  sin,  hard  and  unbelieving. 

"Woe  I  woe  I",  he  cried  aloud  to  his  brethren  as  he  en- 
tered the  Jewish  quarter.  "Your  sins  shall  be  visited 
upon  you.  For  know  that  when  God  created  the  world, 
it  was  not  from  necessity  but  from  pure  love,  and  to  be 
recognized  by  men  as  their  Creator  and  Master.  But  ye 
return  Him  not  love  for  love.     Woe !  woe !     There  shall 

138 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

come  a  fire  upon  Constantinople  and  a  great  burning  upon 
your  habitations  and  substance." 

Then  his  breast  swelled  with  sobs  ;  in  a  strange  ecstasy 
his  spirit  seemed  to  soar  from  his  body,  and  hover  lovingly 
over  all  the  motley  multitude.  All  that  night  his  follow- 
ers heard  him  praying  aloud  with  passionate  tears,  and 
singing  the  Psalms  of  David  in  his  sweet  melancholy  voice 
as  he  strode  irregularly  up  and  down  the  room. 


VII 

At  Constantinople  a  messenger  brought  him  a  letter  of 
homage  from  Damascus  from  his  foremost  disciple,  Nathan 
of  Gaza. 

Nathan  was  a  youthful  enthusiast,  son  of  a  Jerusalem 
begging  -  agent,  and  newly  married  to  the  beautiful,  but 
one-eyed  daughter  of  a  rich  Portuguese,  who  had  migrated 
from  Damascus  to  Gaza.  Opulent  and  zealous,  he  de- 
voted himself  henceforth  to  preaching  the  Messiah,  living 
and  dying  his  apostle  and  prophet — no  other  in  short  than 
the  Elijah  who  was  to  be  the  Messiah's  harbinger.  Nor 
did  he  fail  to  work  miracles  in  proof  of  his  mission.  Merely 
on  reading  a  man's  name,  he  would  recount  his  life,  de- 
faults and  sins,  and  impose  just  correction  and  penance. 
Evil-doers  shunned  his  eye.  More  readily  than  on  Sabba- 
tai  men  believed  on  him,  inasmucli  as  lie  claimed  but  the 
second  place,  and  an  impostor,  said  tbcy,  would  have 
claimed  the  first.  Couched  in  the  tropes  and  metaphors 
of  Rabbinical  Hebrew,  Nathan's  letter  ran  thus  : — 

''22XD    CHESVAN    OF   THIS   YEAR. 

"  To  the  King,  our  King,  Lord  of  our  Lords,  who  gath- 
ers the  Dispersed  of  Israel,  who  redeems  our  Captivity,  the 
Man  elevated  to  the  Height  of  all  sublimity,  the  Messiah 
I  129 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

of  the  God  of  Jacob,  the  trne  Messiah,  the  Celestial  Lion, 
Sabbatai  Zevi,  Avhose  honor  be  exalted  and  his  dominion 
raised  in  a  short  time,  and  for  ever.  Amen.  After  having 
kissed  thy  hands  and  swept  the  dust  from  thy  feet,  as  my 
duty  is  to  the  King  of  Kings,  Avhose  Majesty  be  exalted 
and  His  Empire  enlarged.  These  are  to  make  known  to 
the  Supreme  Excellency  of  that  Place,  which  is  adorned 
with  the  beauty  of  thy  Sanctity,  that  the  AVord  of  the  King 
and  of  His  Law  bath  enlightened  our  Faces  ;  that  day  hath 
been  a  solemn  day  unto  Israel  and  a  day  of  light  unto  our 
Rulers,  for  immediately  we  applied  ourselves  to  perform 
thy  Commands  as  our  duty  is.  And  though  we  have  heard 
of  many  strange  things,  yet  we  are  courageous,  and  our 
heart  is  as  the  heart  of  a  Lion  ;  nor  ought  we  to  inquire  or 
reason  of  thy  doings  ;  for  thy  works  are  marvellous  and 
past  finding  out.  And  we  are  confirmed  in  our  Fidelity 
without  all  exception,  resigning  up  our  very  souls  for  the 
Holiness  of  thy  Name.  And  now  we  are  come  as  far  as 
Damascus,  intending  shortly  to  proceed  in  our  journey  to 
Scauderone,  according  as  thou  hast  commanded  us  :  that 
so  we  may  ascend  and  see  the  face  of  God  in  light,  as  the 
light  of  the  face  of  the  King  of  life.  And  we,  servants  of 
thy  servants,  shall  cleanse  the  dust  from  thy  feet,  beseech- 
ing the  majesty  of  thine  excellency  and  glory  to  vouchsafe 
from  thy  habitation  to  have  a  care  of  us,  and  help  us  with 
the  Force  of  thy  Right  Hand  of  Strength,  and  shorten  our 
way  which  is  before  us.  And  we  have  our  eyes  towards 
Jah,  Jab,  who  will  make  haste  to  help  us  and  to  save  us, 
that  the  Cliildreu  of  Iniquity  shall  not  hurt  us  ;  and  tow- 
ards whom  our  hearts  pant  and  are  consumed  within  us  : 
who  shall  give  us  Talons  of  Iron  to  be  worthy  to  stand  un- 
der the  shadow  of  thine  ass.  These  are  the  words  of  thy 
Servant  of  Servants,  who  prostrates  himself  to  be  trod  on 
by  the  soles  of  thy  feet.— Nathan  Benjamin." 

130 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 


VIII 

But  it  was  at  Thessalonica — now  known  as  Salonica — 
that  Sabbatai  gained  the  greatest  following.  For  Thessa- 
lonica was  the  chief  stronghold  of  the  Cabalah  ;  and  though 
the  triangular  battlemented  town,. sloping  down  the  moun- 
tain to  the  gulf,  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Turks,  who  had 
built  four  fortresses  and  set  up  twelve  little  cannons  against 
the  Corsairs,  yet  Jews  were  largely  in  the  ascendant,  and 
their  thirty  synagogues  dominated  the  mosques  of  their 
masters  and  the  churches  of  the  Greeks,  even  as  the  crowns 
they  received  for  supplying  the  cloths  of  the  Janissaries 
far  exceeded  their  annual  tribute.  Castilians,  Portuguese, 
Italians,  they  were  further  recruited  by  an  influx  of  stu- 
dents from  all  parts  of  the  Empire,  for  here  were  two  great 
colleges  teaching  more  than  ten  thousand  scholars.  In  this 
atmosphere  of  pious  warmth  Sabbatai  found  consolation 
for  the  apathy  of  Constantinople.  Not  only  men  were  of 
his  devotees  now,  but  women,  and  maidens,  in  all  their 
Eastern  fervor,  raising  their  face  -  veils  and  putting  off 
their  shrouding  izars  as  they  sat  at  his  feet.  Virgins,  un- 
taught to  love  or  to  dissemble,  lifted  adoring  eyes.  But 
Sabbatai's  vision  was  still  inwards  and  heavenwards  ;  and 
one  day  he  made  a  great  feast,  and  invited  all  his  friends 
to  his  wedding  in  the  chief  synagogue.  They  came  with 
dancing  and  music  and  lighted  torches,  but  racked  by  cu- 
riosity, full  of  guesses  as  to  the  bride.  Through  the  close 
lattice-work  of  the  ladies'  balcony  peered  a  thousand  eager 
eyes.  When  the  moment  came,  Sabbatai,  in  festal  gar- 
ments, took  his  stand  under  the  canopy.  But  no  visible 
bride  stood  beside  him.  Moses  Pinhero  reverently  drew  a 
Scroll  of  the  Law  from  the  ark.  vested  in  purple  and  gold 
broideries,  and  hung  with  golden  chains  and  a  breastplate 

131 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

and  bells  that  made  sweet  music,  and  he  bore  it  beneath 
the  canop3%  and  Sabbatai,  placing  a  golden  ring  on  a  silver 
peak  of  the  Scroll,  said  solemnly  : 

"  I  betroth  thee  unto  me  according  to  the  Law  of  Moses 
and  Israel." 

A  buzz  of  astonishment  swelled  through  the  synagogue, 
blent  with  heavier  murnaurs  of  protest  from  shocked  pie- 
tists. But  the  more  poetic  Cabalists  understood.  They 
explained  that  it  was  the  union  of  the  Torah,  the  Daughter 
of  Heaven,  with  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  Heaven,  who  was 
never  to  mate  with  a  mortal. 

But  a  Chacham  (Rabbi),  unappeased,  raised  a  loud  plaint 
of  blasphemy. 

"Nay,  the  blasphemy  is  thine,"  replied  the  Bridegroom 
of  the  law  quietly.  "  Say  not  your  prophets  that  the  Truth 
should  be  the  spouse  of  those  who  love  the  Truth  ?" 

But  the  orthodox  faction  prevailed,  and  he  was  driven 
from  the  city. 

He  went  to  the  Morea,  to  his  father's  relatives  ;  he  wan- 
dered to  and  fro,  and  the  years  slipped  by.  Worn  by  fasts 
and  penances,  living  in  inward  dreams  of  righteousness 
and  regeneration,  he  grew  towards  middle  age,  and  always 
on  his  sweet  scholarly  face  an  air  of  patient  waiting 
through  the  slow  years.  And  his  train  of  disciples  grew 
and  changed  ;  some  died,  some  wearied  of  the  long  ex- 
pectation. But  Samuel  Primo,  of  Jerusalem,  became  his 
devoted  secretary,  and  Abraham  Rubio  was  also  ever  at  his 
side,  a  droll,  impudent  beggar,  professing  unlimited  faith 
in  the  Messiah,  and  feasting  with  unbounded  appetite  on 
the  good  things  sent  by  the  worshippers,  and  put  aside  by 
the  persistent  ascetic. 

'^'Tis  fortunate  I  shall  be  with  thee  Avhon  thou  carvest 
the  Leviathan,"  he  said  once.  "  Else  would  tlie  heathen 
princesses  who  shall  wait  upon  us  come  in  for  thy  pickings." 

132 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

"In  those  days  of  the  Kingdom  there  shall  be  no  more 
need  for  abnegation,"  said  Sabbatai.  "As  it  is  written, 
'And  thy  fast-days  shall  become  feast-days.'" 

"Nay,  then,  thy  feast-days  shall  become  my  fast-days," 
retorted  Rubio. 

Sabbatai  smiled.  The  beggar  was  the  only  man  who 
could  make  him  smile.  But  he  smiled  —  a  grim,  bitter 
smile — when  he  heard  that  the  great  fire  he  had  predicted 
had  devastated  Constantinople,  and  wrought  fierce  mischief 
in  the  Jewish  quarter. 

"The  fire  will  purify  their  hearts,"  he  said. 


IX 

Nathan  the  Prophet  did  not  fail  to  enlarge  upon  the 
miraculous  prediction  of  his  Master,  and  through  all  the 
lands  of  the  Exile  a  tremor  ran. 

It  reached  that  hospitable  table  in  Cairo  where  each 
noon  half  a  hundred  learned  Cabalists  dined  at  the  palace 
of  the  Saraph-Bashi,  the  Jewish  Master  of  the  Mint,  him- 
self given  to  penances  and  visions,  and  swathed  in  sack- 
cloth below  the  purple  robes  with  which  he  drove  abroad 
in  his  chariot  of  state.  , 

"  He  who  is  sent  thee,"  wrote  Nathan  to  Raphael  Joseph 
Chelebi,  this  pious  and  open-handed  Prince  in  Israel,  "is 
the  first  man  in  the  world — I  may  say  no  more.  Honor 
liim,  then,  and  thou  shalt  have  thy  reward  in  his  lifetime, 
wherein  thou  wilt  witness  miracles  beyond  belief.  What- 
ever thou  shouldst  sec,  be  not  astonied.  It  is  a  divine  mys- 
tery. When  the  time  shall  come  I  will  give  up  all  to  serve 
him.     Would  it  were  granted  me  to  follow  him  now  !" 

Chelebi  was  prepared  to  follow  Sabbatai  forthwith ;  he 
Avcnt  to  meet  Sabbatai's  vessel,  and  escorted   him  to  his 

133 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

palace  with  great  honor.  But  Sabbatai  won  hi  not  lodge 
therein. 

"  The  time  is  not  yet,"  he  said,  and  sought  shelter 
with  a  humble  vendor  of  holy  books,  whose  stall  stood 
among  the  money  -  changers'  booths  that  led  to  the  chief 
synagogue,  and  his  followers  distributed  themselves  among 
the  quaint  high  houses  of  the  Jewry,  and  walked  prophetic 
in  its  winding  alleys,  amid  the  fantastic  chaos  of  buyers  and 
sellers  and  donkeys,  under  the  radiant  blue  strip  of  Egyp- 
tian sky.  Only  at  mid-day  did  they  repair  to  the  table  of 
the  Saraph-Bashi. 

"Hadst  any  perils  at  sea  ?"  asked  the  host  on  the  first 
day.     "Men  say  the  Barbary  Corsairs  are  astir  again." 

Sabbatai  remained  silent,  but  Samuel  Primo,  his  secre- 
tary, took  up  the  reply. 

*•  Perils  !"  quoth  he.  "  My  Master  will  not  speak  of 
them,  but  the  Captain  will  tell  thee  a  tale.  "We  never 
thought  to  pass  Rhodes  !" 

"  Ay,"  chimed  in  Abraham  Rubio,  "  we  were  pursued  all 
night  by  two  pirates,  one  on  either  side  of  us  like  beggars." 

''And  the  Captain,"  said  Isaac  Silvera,  "  despairing  of 
escape,  planned  to  take  to  the  boats  with  his  crew,  leaving 
the  passengers  to  their  fate." 

"But  he  did^iot  ?"  quoth  a  breathless  Cabalist. 

"  Alas,  no,"  said  Abraham  Rubio,  with  a  comical  grimace. 
"  AVould  he  had  done  so  !  For  then  we  should  have  owned 
a  goodly  vessel,  and  the  Master  would  have  saved  us  all  the 
same." 

"  But  righteousness  must  needs  be  rewarded,"  protested 
Samuel  Primo.  "And  inasmuch  as  the  Captain  wished  to 
save  the  Master  in  the  boats — " 

"The  Master  was  reading,"  put  in  Solomon  Lagnado. 
"The  Captain  cries  out,  'The  Corsairs  are  upon  us!' 
'  Where  ?'  says  the   Master.     '  There  !'  says   the   Captain. 

134 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

The  Master  stretches  out  his  hands,  one  towards  each  ves- 
sel, and  raises  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  in  a  moment  the 
ships  tack  and  sail  away  on  the  high  sea." 

Sabbatai  sat  eating  his  meagre  meal  in  silence. 

But  when  the  rumor  of  his  miracle  spread,  the  sick  and 
the  crippled  hastened  to  him,  and,  protesting  he  could  do 
naught,  he  laid  his  hands  on  them,  and  many  declared 
themselves  healed.  Also  he  touched  the  lids  of  the  sore- 
eyed  and  they  said  his  fingers  were  as  ointment.  But  Sab- 
batai said  nothing,  made  no  pretensions,  walking  ever  the 
path  of  piety  with  meek  and  humble  tread.  Howbeit  he 
could  not  linger  in  Egypt.  The  Millennial  Year  was 
drawing  nigh — the  mystic  1066. 

Sabbatai  Zevi  girded  up  his  loins,  and,  regardless  of  the 
rumors  of  Arab  robbers,  nay,  wearing  his  phylacteries  on 
his  forehead  as  though  to  mark  himself  out  as  a  Jew,  and 
therefore  rich,  joined  a  caravan  for  Jerusalem,  by  way  of 
Damascus. 


0  THE  ecstasy  with  which  he  prostrated  himself  to  kiss 
for  the  first  time  the  soil  of  the  sacred  city  !  Tears  rolled 
from  his  eyes,  half  of  rapture,  half  of  passionate  sorrow  for 
the  lost  glories  of  Zion,  given  over  to  the  Moslem,  its  gates 
guarded  by  Turkish  sentries,  and  even  the  beauty  of  his 
first  view  of  it— domes,  towers,  and  bastions  bathed  in  morn- 
ing sunlight — fading  away  in  the  squalor  of  its  steep  alleys. 

Nathan  the  Prophet  had  apprised  the  Jews  of  the  com- 
ing of  their  King,  and  the  believers  welcomed  him  with 
every  mark  of  homage,  even  substituting  Sabbatai  Zevi  for 
Sultan  Mehemet  in  the  Sabbath  prayer  for  the  Sovereign, 
and  at  the  AVailing  Place  the  despairing  sobs  of  the  Sons  of 
the  Law  were  tempered  by  a  great  hope. 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Poor,  squeezed  to  famishing  point  by  the  Turkish  offi- 
cials, deprived  of  their  wonted  subsidies  from  the  pious 
Jews  of  Poland,  who  were  decimated  by  Cossack  massacres, 
they  had  had  their  long  expectation  of  the  Messiah  intensi- 
fied by  the  report  which  Baruch  Gad  had  brought  back  to 
them  from  Persia — how  the  Sons  of  Moses,  living  beyond  the 
river  Sambatyon  (that  ceased  to  run  on  the  Sabbath),  were 
but  awaiting,  amid  daily  miracles,  the  word  of  the  Messiah 
to  march  back  to  Jerusalem.  The  lost  Ten  Tribes  would 
reassemble:  at  the  blast  of  the  celestial  horn  the  dispersed 
of  Israel  would  be  gathered  together  from  the  four  corners 
of  the  Earth.  But  Sabbata'i  deprecated  the  homage  ;  of  Re- 
demption he  spake  no  word. 

And  verily  his  coming  seemed  to  bode  destruction  rather 
than  salvation.  For  a  greedy  Paclia,  getting  wind  of  the 
disloyalty  of  the  synagogue  to  the  Sultan,  made  it  a  pretext 
for  an  impossible  fine. 

The  wretched  community  was  dashed  back  to  despair. 
Already  reduced  to  starvation,  whence  were  they  to  raise 
this  mighty  sum  ?  But,  recovering,  all  hearts  turned  at 
once  to  the  strange  sorrowful  figure  that  Avent  humbly  to 
and  fro  among  them. 

"Money?"  said  he.  "  Whence  should  I  take  so  much 
money  ?" 

"  But  thou  art  Messiah  ?" 

"I  Messiah  ?"     He  looked  at  them  wistfully. 

"Forgive  us — we  know  the  hour  of  thy  revelation  hath 
not  yet  struck.  But  wilt  thou  iiot  save  us  by  thy  human 
might  ?" 

"  How  so  ?" 

"  Go  for  us,  we  pray  thee,  on  a  mission  to  the  friend- 
ly Sarapli  -  Bashi  of  Cairo.  His  wealth  alone  can  ran- 
som us." 

"  All  tluit  man  can  do  I  will  do,"  said  Sabbatai. 

180 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

"  May  thy  strength  increase  !"  came  the  grateful  ejacula- 
tion, and  white-bearded  sages  stooped  to  kiss  the  hem  of 
his  garment. 

So  Sabbatai  journeyed  back  to  Cairo  by  caravan  through 
the  desert,  preceded,  men  said,  by  a  pillar  of  fire,  and  ac- 
companied when  he  travelled  at  night  by  myriads  of  armed 
men  that  disappeared  in  the  morning,  and  wheresoever  he 
passed  all  the  Jewish  inhabitants  flocked  to  gaze  upon 
him.  In  Hebron  they  kept  watch  all  night  around  his 
house. 

From  his  casement  Sabbatai  looked  up  at  the  silent  stars 
and  down  at  the  swaying  sea  of  faces. 

"  What  if  the  miracle  be  not  wrought  I"  he  murmured. 
"If  Chelebi  refuses  to  sacrifice  so  much  of  his  substance  ! 
But  they  believe  on  me.  It  must  be  that  Jerusalem  will 
be  saved,  and  that  I  am  the  Messiah  indeed." 

At  Cairo  the  pious  Master  of  the  Mint  received  him  with 
ecstasy,  and  granted  his  request  ere  he  had  made  an  end 
of  speaking. 

That  night  Sabbatai  wandered  away  from  all  his  follow- 
ers, beyond  the  moonlit  Nile,  towards  the  Great  Pyramid, 
on,  on,  unto  the  white  desert,  his  eyes  seeing  only  inward 
visions. 

"  Yea,  I  am  Messiah,"  he  cried  at  length  to  the  vast 
night,  "I  am  G— !" 

The  sudden  shelving  of  the  sand  made  him  stumble,  and 
in  that  instant  he  became  aware  of  the  Sphinx  towering 
over  him,  its  great  granite  Face  solemn  in  the  moonlight. 
His  voice  died  away  in  an  awed  whisper.  Long,  long  he 
gazed  into  the  great  stone  eyes. 

"  Speak  !"  he  whispered.  "  Thou,  Abou-cl -Hoi,  Father 
of  Terror,  thou  who  broodedst  over  the  silences  ere  Moses 
ben  Amram  led  my  people  from  this  land  of  bondage, 
shall  I  not  lead  them  from  their  dispersal  to  their  ancient 

137 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

unity  in  the  day  when  God  shall  be  One,  and  His  Name 
One  ?" 

The  Sphinx  was  silent.  The  white  sea  of  sand  stretched 
away  endlessly  with  noiseless  billows.  The  Pyramids  threw 
funereal  shadows  over  the  arid  waste. 

"Yea/' he  cried,  passionately.  "My  Father  hath  not 
deceived  me.  Through  me,  through  me  flow  the  streams 
of  grace  to  recreate  and  rekindle.  Hath  He  not  revealed 
it  to  me,  even  ere  this  day  of  Salvation  for  Jerusalem,  by 
the  date  of  my  birth,  by  the  ancient  parchment,  by  the 
homage  of  Nathan,  by  the  faith  of  my  brethren  and  the 
rumor  of  the  nations,  by  my  sufferings,  by  my  self-ap- 
pointed martyrdoms,  by  my  long,  weary  years  of  forced 
Avanderiiigs  to  and  fro  upon  the  earth,  by  my  loneliness — 
— ah,  God — my  loneliness  I" 

The  Sphinx  brooded  solemnly  under  the  brooding  stars. 
Sabbatai's  voice  was  as  the  wail  of  a  wind. 

"Yea,  I  will  save  Israel,  I  will  save  the  world.  Through 
ray  holiness  the  world  shall  be  a  Temple.  Sin  and  evil  and 
pain  shall  pass.  Peace  shall  sit  under  her  fig-tree,  and 
swords  shall  be  turned  into  pruning-hooks,  and  gladness 
and  brotherhood  shall  run  through  all  the  earth,  even  as 
my  Father  declared  unto  Israel  by  the  mouth  of  his  prophet 
Hosea.  Yea,  I,  even  I,  will  allure  her  and  bring  her  into 
the  desert,  and  speak  comfortably  unto  her.  And  I  will 
give  her  vineyards  from  thence,  and  the  Valley  of  Achor 
for  a  door  of  hope;  and  she  shall  sing  there  as  in  the  days 
of  her  youth  and  as  in  the  days  when  she  came  up  out  of 
the  land  of  Egypt.  And  I  will  say  to  them  which  were  not 
my  people,  '  Thou  art  my  people  ' ;  and  they  shall  say, 
'Thou  art  my  God.'" 

The  Sphinx  was  silent.  And  in  that  silence  there  was 
the  voice  of  dead  generations  that  had  bustled  and  dreamed 
and  passed  away,  countless  as  the  grains  of  desert  sand. 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

Sabbatai  ceased  and  surveyed  the  Face  in  answering  si- 
lence, his  own  face  growing  as  inscrutable. 

"  We  are  strong  and  lonely — thou  and  I/'  he  whispered 
at  last.     But  the  Sphinx  was  silent. 

{Here  endeth  the  First  Scroll) 


SCROLL  THE  SECOND 
XI 

In  a  little  Polish  town,  early  one  summer  morning,  two 
Jewish  women,  passing  by  the  cemetery,  saw  a  spirit  flut- 
tering whitely  among  the  tombs. 

They  shrieked,  whereupon  the  figure  turned,  revealing  a 
beautiful  girl  in  her  night-dress,  her  face,  albeit  distraught, 
touched  unmistakably  with  the  hues  of  life. 

"Ah,  ye'  be  daughters  of  Israel !"  cried  the  strange  ap- 
parition.    "  Help  me  !     I  have  escaped  from  the  nunnery." 

"  Who  art  thou  ?"  said  they,  moving  towards  her. 

"The  Messiah's  Bride!"  And  her  face  shone.  They 
stood  rooted  to  the  soil.  A  fresh  thrill  of  the  supernatural 
ran  through  them. 

"Nay,  come  hither,"  she  cried.  "  See."  And  she  showed 
them  nail-marks  on  her  naked  flesh.  "  Last  night  my  fa- 
ther's ghostly  hands  dragged  me  from  the  convent." 

At  this  the  women  would  have  run  away,  but  each  en- 
couraged the  other. 

"Poor  creature  !  She  is  mad,"  they  signed  and  whis- 
pered to  each  other.     Then  they  threw  a  mantle  over  her. 

"  Ye  will  hide  me,  will  ye  not  ?"  she  said,  pleadingly,  and 
her  wild  sweetness  melted  their  hearts. 

They  soothed  her  and  led  her  homewards  by  unfre- 
quented byways. 

139 


DKEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  Where  are  thy  friends,  thy  parents  ?" 

"Dead,  scattered  —  what  know  I?  0  those  days  of 
blood  !"  She  shuddered  violently.  "  Baptism  or  death  ! 
But  they  were  strong.  I  see  a  Cossack  dragging  my  mother 
along  with  a  thong  round  her  neck.  '  Here's  a  red  ribbon 
for  you,  dear,'  he  cries  with  laughter  ;  they  betrayed  us  to 
the  Cossacks,  those  Greek  Christians  within  our  gates — the 
Zaporogians  dressed  themselves  like  Poles — we  open  the 
gates  —  the  gutters  run  blood  —  oh,  the  agonies  of  the  tor- 
tured !— oh  :  father  !" 

They  hushed  her  cries.  Too  well  they  remembered  those 
terrible  days  of  the  Chmielnicki  massacres,  when  all  the 
highways  of  Europe  were  thronged  with  haggard  Polish 
Jews,  flying  from  tlie  vengeance  of  the  Cossack  chieftain 
with  his  troops  of  Haidamaks,  and  a  quarter  of  a  million 
of  Jewish  corpses  on  the  battle-fields  of  Poland  were  the 
blunt  Cossack's  reply  to  the  casuistical  cunning  engendered 
by  the  Talmud. 

"They  hated  my  father,"  the  strange  beautiful  creature 
told  them,  when  she  was  calmer.  "He  was  the  lessee  of 
the  Polish  imposts  ;  and  in  order  that  he  might  collect  the 
fines  on  Cossack  births  and  marriages,  he  kept  the  keys  of 
the  Greek  church,  and  the  Pope  had  to  apply  to  him,  ere 
he  could  celebrate  weddings  or  baptisms — they  offered  to 
baptize  him  free  of  tax,  but  he  held  firm  to  his  faith;  they 
impaled  him  on  a  stake  and  lashed  him  —  oh,  my  God  ! 
And  the  good  sisters  found  me  weeping,  a  little  girl,  and 
they  took  me  to  the  convent  and  were  kind  to  me,  and 
spoke  to  me  of  Christ.  But  I  would  not  believe,  no,  I 
could  not  believe.  The  psalms  and  lessons  of  the  syna- 
gogue came  back  to  my  lips ;  in  visions  of  the  night  I  saw 
my  fatlicr,  blood-stained,  but  haloed  with  light. 

"  'Be  faithful,'  he  would  say,  'be  faithful  to  Judaism. 
A  great  destiny  awaits  thee.     For  lo  !  our  long  persecution 

140 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

draws  to  an  end,  the  days  of  the  Messiah  are  at  hand,  and 
thou  shalt  be  the  Messiah's  bride.'  And  the  glory  of  a 
great  hope  came  into  my  life,  and  I  longed  to  escape  from 
my  prison  into  the  snnlit  world.  I,  the  bride  of  the  clois- 
ter I"  she  cried,  and  revolt  flung  roses  into  her  white  face. 
''  Nay,  the  bride  of  the  Messiah  am  I,  who  shall  restore 
joy  to  the  earth,  who  shall  wipe  the  tears  from  off  all  faces. 
Last  night  my  father  came  to  me  again,  and  said,  '  Be  faith- 
ful to  Judaism.'  Then  I  replied,  '  If  thou  wert  of  a  truth 
my  father,  thou  wouldst  cease  thy  exhortations,  thou 
wouldst  know  I  would  rather  die  than  renounce  my  faith, 
thou  wouldst  rescue  me  from  these  hated  walls,  and  give  me 
unto  my  Bridegroom.'  Thereupon  he  said,  ^Stretch  out 
thine  hand,'  and  I  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  I  felt  an  in- 
visible hand  clasp  it,  and  when  I  awoke  I  found  myself  by 
his  grave-side,  where  ye  came  upon  me.  Oh,  take  me  to 
the  Woman's  Bath  forthwith,  I  pray  ye,  that  I  may  Avash 
off  the  years  of  pollution." 

They  took  her  to  the  Woman's  Bath,  admiring  her  mar- 
vellous beauty. 

"  Where  is  the  Messiah  ?"'  she  asked. 

"He  is  not  come  yet,"  they  made  answer,  for  the  rising 
up  of  Sabbatai  was  as  yet  known  to  but  a  few  disciples. 

"  Then  I  will  go  find  Him,"  she  answered. 

She  wandered  to  Amsterdam — the  capital  of  Jewry — and 
thence  to  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  and  thence,  southwards, 
in  vain  search  to  Livorne. 

And  there  in  the  glory  of  the  Italian  sunshine,  her  ardent, 
unbalanced  nature,  starved  in  the  chilly  convent,  yielded 
to  passion,  for  there  were  many  to  love  her.  But  to  none 
Avould  she  give  herself  in  marriage.  "  I  am  the  Messiah's 
destined  bride,"  she  said,  and  her  wild  eyes  had  always  an 
air  of  waiting. 

141 


DREAMERS  OF  THE  GHETTO 


XII 

And  in  the  course  of  years  the  news  of  her  and  of  her 
prophecy  travelled  to  Sabbatai  Zevi,  and  found  him  at 
Cairo  the  morning  after  he  had  spoken  to  the  Sphinx  in 
the  great  silences.  And  to  him  under  the  blue  Egyptian 
sky  came  an  answering  throb  of  romance.  The  womanhood 
that  had  not  moved  him  in  the  flesh  thrilled  him,  vaguely 
imaged  from  afar,  mystically,  spiritually. 

*'  Let  her  be  sent  for,"  he  said,  and  his  disciples  noted 
an  unwonted  restlessness  in  the  weary  weeks  while  his  am- 
bassadors were  away. 

"  Dost  think  she  will  come  ?"  he  said  once  to  Abraham 
Rubio. 

"  What  woman  would  not  come  to  thee  ?"  replied  the 
beggar.  "  What  dainty  is  not  offered  thee  ?  I  trow  nathe- 
less  that  thou  wilt  refuse,  and  that  I  shall  come  in  for  thy 
leavings." 

Sabbatai  smiled  faintly. 

"  What  have  I  to  do  with  women  ?"  he  murmured.  ''  But 
I  would  fain  know  what  hath  been  prophetically  revealed 
to  her !" 

One  afternoon  his  ambassadors  returned,  and  announced 
that  they  had  brought  her.  She  Avas  resting  after  the  jour- 
ney, and  would  visit  him  on  the  morrow.  He  appointed 
their  meeting  in  the  Palace  of  the  Saraph-Bashi.  Then, 
unable  to  rest,  he  mounted  the  hill  of  the  citadel  and  saw 
an  auspicious  golden  glow  over  the  mosques  and  houses  of 
Cairo,  illumining  even  the  desert  and  the  Pyramids.  He 
stood  watching  the  sun  sink  lower  and  lower,  till  suddenly 
it  went  out  like  a  snuffed  candle. 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 


XIII 

On  the  morrow  he  left  his  mean  brick  dwelling  in  the 
Jewry,  and  received  her  alone  in  a  marble-paved  chamber 
in  the  Palace,  the  walls  adorned  with  carvings  of  flowers 
and  birds,  minutely  worked,  the  ceiling  with  arabesques 
formed  of  thin  stri^js  of  painted  wood,  the  air  cooled  by  a 
fantastic  fountain  playing  into  a  pool  lined  with  black  and 
white  marbles  and  red  tiling.  Lattice-work  windows  gave 
on  the  central  courtyard,  and  were  supplemented  by  deco- 
rative windows  of  stained  glass,  wrought  into  capricious 
patterns. 

"Peace,  0  Messiah!"  Her  smile  was  dazzling,  and 
there  was  more  of  gaiety  than  of  reverence  in  her  voice. 
Her  white  teeth  flashed  'twixt  laughing  lips.  Sabbatai's 
heart  was  beating  furiously  at  the  sight  of  the  lady  of  his 
dreams.  She  was  clad  in  shimmering  white  Italian  silk, 
which,  draped  tightly  about  her  bosom,  showed  her  as 
some  gleaming  statue.  Bracelets  glittered  on  her  white 
wrists,  gems  of  fire  sparkled  among  her  long,  white  fin- 
gers, a  network  of  pearls  was  all  her  head-dress.  Her  eyes 
had  strange  depths  of  passion,  perfumes  breathed  from 
her  skin,  lustz'eless  like  dead  ivory.  Not  thus  came 
the  maidens  of  Israel  to  wedlock,  demure,  spotless,  spir- 
itless, with  shorn  hair,  priestesses  of  the  ritual  of  the 
home. 

''Peace,  0  Melisselda,"  he  replied  involuntarily. 

*'  Nay,  wherefore  Melisselda  ?"  she  cried,  ascending  to 
the  leeiodn  on  which  he  stood. 

" And  wherefore  Messiah?"  he  answered. 

"  I  have  seen  thee  in  visions — 'tis  the  face,  the  figure, 
the  prophetic  beauty —     But  wherefore  Melisselda  ?" 

He  laughed  into  her  eyes  and  hummed  softly: — 

143 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"'From  her  bath  she  arose, 
Pure  and  white  as  the  snows, 
Melisselda.' " 

*'Ay,  that  did  I,  Avhen  I  washed  off  the  convent.  But 
my  name  is  Sarah." 

"  Nay,  not  Sarah,  but  Saraii — my  Princess  I"  His  voice 
was  hoarse  and  faltering.  This  strange  new  sense  of  ro- 
mance that,  like  a  callow-bird,  had  been  stirring  in  his  breast 
ever  since  he  had  heard  of  her  quest  of  him,  spread  its 
wings  and  soared  heavenwards.  She  had  been  impure — 
but  her  impurity  swathed  her  in  mystic  seductiveness.  The 
world's  law  bound  her  no  more  than  him — she  was  free  and 
elemental,  a  spirit  to  match  his  own  ;  purified  perpetually 
by  its  own  white  fire.  She  came  nearer,  and  her  eyes 
wrapped  him  in  flame. 

"  My  Prince  I"  she  cried. 

He  drew  backward  towards  the  divan.  "  Nay,  but  I 
must  know  no  woman." 

''None  but  thy  true  mate,"  she  answered.  "Thou  hast 
kept  thyself  pure  for  me  even  as  I  have  kept  myself  pas- 
sionate for  thee.  Come,  thou  shalt  make  me  i)ure,  and  I 
will  make  thee  passionate." 

He  looked  at  her  wistfully.  The  cool  plash  of  the  foun- 
tain was  pleasant  in  the  silence. 

"  I  make  thee  pure  I"  he  breathed. 

"  Ay,"  and  she  repeated  softly  : — 

"  'Pure  and  white  as  the  snows, 
Melisselda.'" 

''Melisselda  I"  he  whispered. 

"Messiah!"  she  cried,  with  heaving  bosom.  "Come, 
I  will  teach  thee  the  Joy  of  life.  Together  we  will  rule  the 
world.     What !  when  thou  hast  redeemed  the  world,  shall 

144 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

it  not  rejoice,  shall  not  the  morning  stars  sing  together  ? 
My  King,  my  Sabbatai." 

Her  figure  Avas  a  queen's,  her  eyes  were  stars,  her  lips  a 
woman's. 

"Kiss  me!"  they  pleaded.  "Thy  long  martyrdom  is 
over.  Now  begins  my  mission — to  bring  thee  joy.  So 
hath  it  been  revealed  to  me." 

"Hath  it  been  indeed  revealed  to  thee  ?"  he  demanded 
hoarsely. 

"Yea,  again  and  again,  in  dreams  of  the  night.  The 
bride  of  the  Messiah — so  runs  my  destiny.  Embrace  thy 
bride." 

His  eyes  kindled  to  hers.  He  seemed  in  a  circle  of 
dazzling  white  flame  that  exalted  and  not  destroyed. 

"  Then  I  am  Messiah,  indeed,"  he  thought,  glowing, 
and,  stooping,  he  knew  for  the  first  time  the  touch  of  a 
woman's  lips. 

XIV 

The  Master  of  the  Mint  was  overjoyed  to  celebrate  the 
Messiah's  marriage  under  his  own  gilded  roof.  To  the 
few  who  shook  their  heads  at  the  bride's  past,  Sabbatai 
made  answer  that  the  prophecies  must  be  fulfilled,  and 
that  he,  too,  had  had  visions  in  which  he  was  commanded, 
like  the  prophet  Ilosea,  to  marry  an  unchaste  wife.  And 
his  disciples  saw  that  it  was  a  great  mystery,  symbolizing 
what  the  Lord  had  spoken  through  the  mouth  of  Jere- 
miah :  "  Again  I  will  build  thee  and  thou  shalt  be  built, 
0  virgin  of  Israel :  thou  shalt  again  be  adorned  with  thy 
tabrcts  and  shall  go  forth  in  the  dances  of  them  that  make 
merry."  So  the  festivities  set  in,  and  the  Palace  was  filled 
with  laughter  and  dancing  and  merrymaking. 

And  Melisselda  inaugurated  the  reign  of  joy.  Her 
K  145 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

advent  brought  many  followers  to  Sabbatai.  Thousands 
fell  under  the  spell  of  her  beauty,  her  queenly  carriage, 
gracious  yet  gay.  A  new  spirit  of  romance  was  born  in 
ritual-ridden  Israel.  Men  looked  upon  their  wives  distaste- 
fully, and  the  wives  caught  something  of  her  fire  and  bear- 
ing and  learnt  the  movement  of  abandon  and  the  glance  of 
passion.  And  so,  Avith  a  great  following,  enriched  by  the 
beauty  of  iVfclisselda  and  the  gold  of  the  Master  of  the 
Mint,  Sabbatai  returned  to  redeem  Jerusalem. 

Jerusalem  was  intoxicated  with  joy :  the  prophecies  of 
Elijah  the  Tishbite,  known  on  earth  as  Nathan  of  Gaza, 
were  borne  on  wings  of  air  to  the  four  corners  of  the 
world. 

"To  the  Remnant  of  the  Israelites,"  he  wrote,  ''Peace 
without  end.  Behold  I  go  to  meet  the  face  of  our  Lord, 
whose  majesty  be  exalted,  for  he  is  the  Sovereign  of  the 
King  of  Kings,  whose  empire  be  enlarged.  And  now  I 
come  to  make  known  unto  you  that  though  ye  have  heard 
strange  things  of  our  Lord,  yet  let  not  your  hearts  faint 
or  fear,  but  rather  fortify  yourselves  in  your  Faith  because 
all  his  actions  are  miraculous  and  secret,  which  human 
understanding  cannot  comprehend,  and  who  can  pene- 
trate into  the  depth  of  them  ?  In  a  brief  time  all  things 
shall  be  manifested  to  you  clearly  in  their  purity,  and  ye 
shall  know  and  consider  and  be  instructed  by  the  Inventor 
himself.  Blessed  is  he  who  can  expect  and  arrive  to  the 
Salvation  of  the  true  Messiah,  who  will  speedily  publish 
his  Authority  and  Empire  over  us  now  and  for  ever. 

"Nathan." 

In  the  Holy  City  the  aged  Rabbis  of  the  Sacred  Colleges 
alone  betrayed  misgivings,  fearing  that  the  fine  would  be 
annually  renewed,  and   even   the   wealth   of   Clielebi  ex- 

146 


THE    TUKKISH    MESSIAH 

hausted.  Elsewhere,  the  Jewries  were  divided  into  fac- 
tions, that  fought  each  other  with  texts,  and  set  the  AVord 
against  the  Word.  This  verse  clearly  proved  the  Messiah 
had  come,  and  that  verse  that  the  signs  were  not  yet  ful- 
filled ;  and  had  not  Solomon,  the  Avise  king,  said  that  the 
fool  gave  belief  at  once  to  all  indifferently,  while  the  wise 
man  Aveighed  and  considered  before  believing  ?  Fiercely 
waged  the  battle  of  texts,  and  a  comet  appeared  on  behalf 
of  the  believers.  Demoniacles  saAv  Sabbatai  Zevi  in  heaven 
with  three  crowns,  one  for  Messiah,  one  for  King,  and  one 
for  Conqueror  of  the  Peoples.  But  the  Jerusalem  Rabbis 
remaining  sceptical,  Nathan  proclaimed  in  an  ecstasy  that 
she  Avas  no  longer  the  sacred  city,  the  primacy  had  passed 
to  Gaza.  But  Sabbatai  was  fain  to  shoAV  himself  at 
Smyrna,  his  native  city,  and  hither  he  marched,  preceded 
by  apostles  Avho  kindled  the  communities  he  Avas  to  pass 
through.  Raphael,  another  Greek  beggar,  rhapsodized 
interminably,  and  Bloch,  a  Cabalist  from  Germany,  a 
meek,  simple  soul,  had  frenzies  of  fiery  inspiration. 
Samuel  Primo,  the  untiring  secretary,  scattered  ceaseless 
letters  and  mysterious  manifestoes.  But  to  none  did 
Sabbatai  himself  claim  to  be  the  Messiah — he  commanded 
men  not  to  speak  of  it  till  the  hour  should  come.  Yet  Avas 
his  progress  one  long  triumj)hal  procession.  At  Aleppo 
the  Jews  hastened  to  meet  him  Avith  songs  and  dances  ; 
"the  gates  of  joy  are  opened,"  they  Avrote  to  Constanti- 
nople. At  Smyrna  itself  the  exile  Avas  received  Avith  de- 
lirium, Avith  cries  of  "MessJiiach!  Messiah!"  Avhich  he 
Avould  not  acknoAvledge,  but  to  Avhich  Melisselda  responded 
Avith  seductive  smiles.     His  aged  father  fell  upon  his  neck. 

"The  souls  depart,"  said  Sabbatai,  kissing  him.     "But 
they  return." 

He  Avas  brought  before  the  Cadi,  Avho  demanded  a  mir- 
acle. 

147 


DKEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  Thou  askest  a  miracle  ?"  said  Sabbatai  scornfully. 
"  Wouldst  see  a  pillar  of  fire  ?" 

The  Sabbatians  who  thronged  the  audience  chamber  ut- 
tered a  cry  and  covered  their  faces  with  their  hands. 

"  Yea,  we  see,  we  see,"  they  shouted  ;  the  word  was 
passed  to  the  dense  crowd  surging  Avithout,  and  it  swayed 
madly.  Husbands  ran  home  to  tell  their  wives  and  chil- 
di'en,  and  when  Sabbatai  left  the  presence  chamber  he  was 
greeted  with  delirious  acclamations. 

And  while  Smyrna  was  thus  seething,  and  its  Jews  were 
preparing  themselves  by  purification  and  prayer  for  the 
great  day,  a  courier,  dark  as  a  Moor  with  the  sunburn  of 
unresting  travel,  arrived  in  the  town  Avith  a  letter  from 
the  Holy  City.  It  was  long  before  he  could  obtain  audi- 
ence with  Sabbatai,  who,  with  his  inmost  disciples,  was 
celebrating  a  final  fast,  and  meantime  the  populace  was 
in  a  ferment  of  curiosity,  the  messenger  recounting  how 
he  had  tramped  for  weeks  and  weeks  through  the  terrible 
heat  to  see  the  face  of  the  Messiah  and  kiss  his  feet  and 
deliver  the  letter  from  the  holy  men  of  Jerusalem,  who 
were  too  poor  to  pay  for  his  speedier  Journeying.  But 
when  at  last  Sabbatai  read  the  letter,  his  face  lit  \\\),  though 
he  gave  no  sign  of  the  contents.  His  disciples  pressed  for 
its  publication,  and,  after  much  excitement,  Sabbatai  con- 
sented that  it  should  be  read  from  the  Al  Memor  of  the 
synagogue.  When  they  learned  that  it  bore  the  homage 
of  repentant  Jerusalem,  their  joy  was  tumultuous  to  the 
point  of  tears.  Sabbatai  threw  twenty  silver  crowns  on  a 
salver  for  the  messenger,  and  invited  others  to  do  the  same, 
so  that  the  happy  envoy  could  scarce  stagger  away  with 
his  reward. 

Nevertheless  Sabbatai  still  delayed  to  declare  himself. 

But  at  last  the  long  silence  drew  to  an  end.  The  great 
year  of  IGGG  was  nigh,  before  many  moons  the  New  Year  of 

148 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

the  Christians  would  dawn.  Under  the  direction  of  Me- 
lisselda  men  were  making  sleeved  robes  of  white  satin  for 
the  Messiah.  And  one  day,  thus  arrayed  in  gleaming  white, 
at  the  head  of  a  great  procession  walking  two  by  two,  Sab- 
batai  Zevi  marched  to  the  House  of  God. 


XV 

In  the  gloom  of  the  great  synagogue,  while  the  worshiiJ- 
pers  swayed  ghostly,  and  the  ram's  horn  sounded  shrill 
and  jubilant,  Sabbatai,  standing  before  the  Ark,  where  the 
Scrolls  of  the  Law  stood  solemn,  proclaimed  himself,  amid 
a  tense  awe  as  of  heavens  opening  in  ineffable  vistas,  the 
Righteous  Redeemer,  the  Anointed  of  Israel. 

A  frenzied  shout  of  joy,  broken  by  sobs,  answered  him 
from  the  vast  assembly. 

"  Long  live  our  King  !  Our  Messiah  !"  Many  fell  pros- 
trate on  the  ground,  their  faces  to  the  floor,  kissing  it, 
weeping,  screaming,  shouting  in  ecstatic  thankfulness ; 
others  rocked  to  and  fro,  blinded  by  their  tears,  hoarse 
with  exultation. 

''  Messhiach  !  Messhiach !" 

"The  Kingdom  has  come  \" 

"Blessed  be  the  Messiah  !" 

In  the  women's  gallery  there  Avere  shrieks  and  moans  : 
some  swooned,  others  fell  a-prophesying,  contorting  them- 
selves spasmodically,  uttering  wild  exclamations  ;  the  spirit 
seized  upon  little  children,  and  they  Avaved  their  arms  and 
shouted  frantically. 

' ' Messliiach  !  Mesi<1iiach  !" 

The  long  exile  of  Israel  was  over — the  bitter  centuries 
of  the  badge  and  the  byword,  slaughter  and  spoliation ; 
no  longer,  0  God  !  to  cringe  in  false  humility,  the  scoff  of 

149 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  street-boy,  the  mockery  of  mankind,  penned  in  Ghet- 
tos, branded  with  the  wheel  or  the  cap — but  restored  to 
divine  favor  as  every  Prophet  had  predicted,  and  uplifted 
to  the  sovereignty  of  the  peoples. 

"  MesshiacU  !  Ilesshiach  !" 

They  poured  into  the  narrow  streets,  laughing,  chatter- 
ing, leaping,  dancing,  weeping  hysterically,  begging  for 
forgiveness  of  their  iniquities.  They  fell  at  Sab])atai's 
feet,  .women  spread  rich  carpets  for  him  to  tread  (though 
he  humbly  skirted  them),  and  decked  their  windows  and 
balconies  with  costly  hangings  and  cushions.  Some,  con- 
scious of  sin  that  might  shut  them  out  from  the  Kingdom, 
made  for  the  harbor  and  plunged  into  the  icy  waters ; 
some  dug  themselves  graves  in  the  damp  soil  and  buried 
themselves  up  to  their  necks  till  they  were  numb  and  faint- 
ing ;  others  dropped  melted  wax  upon  their  naked  bodies. 
But  the  most  common  way  of  mortification  was  to  prick 
their  backs  and  sides  with  thorns  and  then  give  them- 
selves thirty-nine  lashes.  Many  fasted  for  days  upon  days 
and  kept  Cabalistic  watclies  by  night,  intoning  Tikknnim 
(prayers). 

And,  blent  with  these  penances,  festival  after  festival, 
riotous,  delirious,  whenever  Sabbatai  Zevi,  with  his  vast 
train  of  followers,  and  waving  a  fan,  showed  himself  in  the 
street  on  his  way  to  a  ceremony  or  to  give  Cabalistic  inter- 
pretations of  Scripture  in  the  synagogue.  The  shop-keep- 
ers of  the  JcAvish  bazaar  closed  their  doors,  and  followed 
in  the  frenzied  procession,  singing  "  The  right  hand  of  the 
Lord  is  exalted,  the  right  hand  bringeth  victory,"  jostling, 
fighting,  in  their  anxiety  to  be  touched  with  the  fan  and 
inherit  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  And  over  these  vast 
romping  crowds,  drunk  with  faith,  Melisselda  queened  it 
with  her  voluptuous  smiles  and  the  joyous  abandon  of  her 
dancing,  and  men  and  women,  boys  and  girls,  embraced  and 

150 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

kissed  in  hysterical  frenzy.  The  yoke  of  the  Law  was 
over,  the  ancient  chastity  forgotten.  In  the  Cabalistic 
communities  of  Thessalonica,  where  the  pious  began  at 
once  to  do  penance,  some  dying  of  a  seven-days'  fast,  and 
others  from  rolling  themselves  naked  in  the  snow,  parents 
hastened  to  marry  young  children  so  that  all  the  unborn 
souls  which  through  the  constant  re-incarnations,  neces- 
sary to  enable  the  old  sinful  souls  to  work  out  their  Per- 
fection, had  not  yet  been  able  to  find  bodies,  might  enter 
the  world,  and  so  complete  the  scheme  of  creation.  Seven 
hundred  children  were  thus  joined  in  wedlock.  Business, 
work  was  suspended ;  the  wheel  of  the  cloth-workers  ceased ; 
the  camels  no  longer  knelt  in  the  Jewish  quarter  of  Smyrna, 
the  Bridge  of  Caravans  ceased  to  vibrate  Avith  their  passing, 
the  shops  remained  open  only  so  long  as  was  necessary  to 
clear  off  the  merchandise  at  any  price ;  whoso  of  private 
persons  had  any  superfluity  of  household  stuff  sold  it  off 
similarly,  but  yet  not  to  Jews,  for  these  were  interdicted 
from  traffic,  business  being  the  mark  of  the  unbeliever, 
and  punishable  by  excommunication,  pecuniary  mulcts,  or 
corporeal  chastisements.  Everybody  prepared  for  the  im- 
minent return  to  Palestine,  when  the  heathen  should  wait 
at  the  table  of  the  Saints  and  the  great  Leviathan  deck  the 
Messianic  board.  In  the  interim  the  poor  were  supported 
by  the  rich.  In  Thessalonica  alone  four  thousand  persons 
lived  on  gifts ;  truly  Messianic  times  for  the  Abraham 
Eubios.  In  Smyrna  the  authority  of  the  Cadi  was  ignored 
or  silenced  by  purses  ;  when  the  Turks  complained,  the 
Seraglio  swallowed  gold  on  both  sides.  The  Chacham 
Aaron  de  la  Papa,  being  an  unbeliever  and  one  of  those 
who  had  originally  driven  him  from  his  birthplace,  was 
removed  by  Sabbatai,  and  Chayim  Benvenisti  appointed 
Chacham  instead.  The  noble  Chayim  Penya,  the  one 
sceptic  of  importance  left  in  Smyrna,  was  wellnigh  torn  to 

151 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

pieces  in  the  synagogue  by  the  angry  multitude,  but  when 
his  own  daugliters  went  into  i)rophetic  trances  and  saw  the 
glory  of  tlie  Kingdom  he  went  over  to  Sabbatai's  side,  and 
reports  flew  everywhere  that  the  Messiah's  enemies  were 
struck  with  frenzies  and  madness,  till,  restored  by  him  to 
their  former  temjier  and  wits,  they  became  his  friends, 
worshippers,  and  disciples.  Four  hundred  other  men  and 
women  fell  into  strange  ecstasies,  foamed  at  the  mouth, 
and  recounted  their  visions  of  the  Lion  of  Judah,  while 
infants,  who  could  scarcely  stammer  out  a  syllable  plainly, 
repeated  the  name  of  Sabbatai,  the  Messiah  ;  being  pos- 
sessed, and  voices  sounding  from  their  stomachs  and  en- 
trails. Such  reports,  bruited  through  the  world  by  the 
foreign  ambassadors  at  Smyrna,  the  clerks  of  the  English 
and  Dutch  houses,  the  resident  foreigners,  and  the  Chris- 
tian ministers,  excited  a  prodigious  sensation,  thrilling  civ- 
ilized mankind.  On  the  Exchanges  of  Europe  men  took 
the  odds  for  and  against  a  Jewish  kingdom. 

Upon  the  Jews  of  the  Avorld  the  news  that  the  Messiah 
had  passed  from  a  far-off  asj)iration  into  a  reality  fell  like  a 
thunderbolt  ;  they  Avcre  dazed  with  joy  ;  then  they  began 
to  prepare  for  the  great  journey.  Everywhere  self-flag- 
ellation, almsgiving,  prophetic  ecstasies  and  trances,  the 
scholars  and  the  mob  at  one  in  joyous  belief.  And  every- 
where also  profligacy,  adulter}^,  incest,  through  the  spread 
of  a  mystical  doctrine  that  the  sinfulness  of  the  world 
could  only  be  overcome  by  the  superabundance  of  sin. 


XVI 

Amsterdam  and  Hamburg — the  two  wealthiest  commu- 
nities— receiving  constant  prophetic  messages  from  Nathan 
of  Gaza,  became  eager  participators  in  the  coming  King- 

152 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

dom.  In  the  Dutch  capital,  the  houses  of  prayer  grew 
riotous  with  music  and  dancing,  the  dwelling-houses 
gloomy  with  penitential  rigors.  The  streets  were  full  of 
men  and  women  prophesying  spasmodically,  the  printing 
presses  panted,  turning  out  new  prayer-books  with  pen- 
ances and  f  ormulge  for  the  faithful.  And  in  these  Tikkunim, 
starred  Avith  mystic  emblems  of  the  Messiah's  dominance, 
the  portrait  of  Sabbatai  appeared  side  by  side  with  that  of 
King  David.  At  Hamburg  the  Jews  were  borne  heaven- 
wards on  a  wave  of  exultation  ;  they  snapped  their  fingers 
at  the  Christian  tormentor,  refused  any  longer  to  come  to 
the  compulsory  Christian  services.  Their  own  services  be- 
came pious  orgies.  Stately  Spanish  Jews,  grave  blue- 
blooded  Portuguese,  hitherto  smacking  of  the  Castilian 
hidalgo,  noble  seigniors  like  Manuel  Texeira,  the  friend 
of  a  Queen  of  Sweden,  erudite  physicians  like  Bendito 
de  Castro,  president  of  the  congregation,  shed  their  oc- 
cidental veneer  and  might  have  been  seen  in  the  syn- 
agogue skipping  like  harts  upon  the  mountains,  danc- 
ing wild  dances  with  the  Holy  Scroll  clasped  to  their 
bosoms. 

"  Hi  diddi  hulda  hi  ti  ti!"  they  carolled  in  merry  mean- 
inglessness. 

"  Nay,  but  this  is  second  childhood,"  quoth  the  vener- 
able Jacob  Sasportas,  chief  Eabbi  of  the  English  Jews,  as 
he  sat  in  the  presidential  pew,  an  honored  visitor  at  Ham- 
burg.    "Surely  thy  flock  is  demented." 

De  Castro's  brow  grew  black. 

"  Have  a  care,  or  my  sheep  may  turn  dog.  An  they 
overhear  thee,  it  were  safer  for  thee  even  to  go  back  to  thy 
London." 

Sasportas  shook  his  head  with  a  humorous  twinkle. 

"  Yea,  if  Sabbatai  will  accompany  me.  An  he  be  Mes- 
siah let  him  face  the  Plague,  let  him  come  and  prophesy  in 

153 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

London  and  ontdo  Solomon  Eagle ;  let  him  heal  the  sick 
and  disburden  the  death-carts."' 

"He  should  but  lay  his  hands  on  the  sick  and  they  were 
cured  I"  retorted  De  Castro.  "  But  his  mission  is  not  in 
the  isles  of  the  AVest ;  he  establisheth  the  throne  in  Zion." 

"Well  for  thee  not  in  Hamburg,  else  would  thy  rev- 
enues dwindle,  0  wise  physician.  But  the  Plague  is  well- 
nigh  spent  now;  if  he  come  now  he  may  take  tlie  credit  of 
the  cure." 

"  Rabbi  as  thou  art,  thou  art  an  Epicurean  ;  thou  sittest 
in  the  seat  oE  the  scorner." 

"'Twas  thou  didst  invite  me  thereto,"  murmured  Sas- 
portas,  smiling. 

"  The  Plague  is  but  a  sign  of  the  Messianic  times,  and 
the  Fire  that  hath  burnt  thy  dwelling-place  is  but  the  cas- 
tigation  for  thine  incredulity." 

"Yea,  there  be  those  who  think  our  royal  Charles  the 
Messiah,  and  petition  him  to  declare  himself,"  said  Saspor- 
tas,  with  his  genial  twinkle.  "  Hath  he  not  also  his  Melis- 
seldas  ?" 

"  Hush,  thou  blasphemer  I"  cried  De  Castro,  looking 
anxiously  at  the  howling  multitude.  "But  thou  wilt  live 
to  eat  thy  words." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Sasportas,  with  a  shrug  of  resignation. 
"I  eat  nothing  unclean." 

But  it  was  vain  for  the  Rabbi  of  the  little  western  isle  to 
contend  by  quip  or  reason  against  the  popular  frenzy. 
England,  indeed,  was  a  hotbed  of  Christian  enthusiasts 
awaiting  the  Jewish  Millennium,  the  downfall  of  the  Pope 
and  Anti-Christ,  and  Jews  and  Christians  caught  mutual 
fire. 

From  the  far  North  of  Scotland  came  a  wonderful  re- 
port of  a  ship  with  silken  sails  and  ropes,  worked  by  sail- 
ors who  spoke  with  one  another  in  the  solemn  syllables  of 

154 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

the  sacred  tongue,  and  flying  a  flag  with  the  inscription, 
"^The  Twelve  Tribes  of  Israel!"  And  a  strange  rumor 
told  of  the  march  of  multitudes  from  unknown  j^arts  into 
the  remote  deserts  of  Arabia.  Fronted  with  sceptics,  be- 
lievers offered  wagers  at  ten  to  one  that  within  two  years 
Sabbatai  would  be  anointed  King  of  Jerusalem ;  bills  of 
exchange  were  drawn  in  Threadneedle  Street  upon  the 
issue. 

And,  indeed,  Sabbatai  was  already  King  of  the  Jews. 
From  all  the  lands  of  the  Exile  crowds  of  the  devout  came 
to  do  him  homage  and  tender  allegiance  —  Turkish  Jews 
with  red  fez  or  saffron -yellow  turban;  Jerusalem  Jews  in 
striped  cotton  gowns  and  soft  felt  hats  ;  Polish  Jews  with 
foxskin  caps  and  long  caftans  ;  sallow  German  Jews,  gi- 
gantic Eussian  Jews,  high-bred  Spanish  Jews;  and  with 
them  often  their  wives  and  daughters — Jerusalem  Jewesses 
with  blue  shirts  and  head -veils,  Egyptian  Jewesses  with 
sweeping  robes  and  black  head-shawls,  Jewesses  from  Ash- 
dod  and  Gaza,  with  white  visors  fringed  with  gold  coins, 
Polish  Jewesses  with  glossy  wigs,  Syrian  Jewesses  with 
eyelashes  black  as  though  lined  with  kohl,  fat  Jewesses 
from  Tunis,  with  clinging  breeches  interwoven  with  gold 
and  silver. 

Daily  he  lield  his  court,  receiving  deputations,  advices, 
messengers.  Young  men  and  maidens  offered  him  their 
lives  to  do  with  as  he  would ;  the  rich  laid  their  fortunes 
at  his  feet,  and  fought  for  the  honor  of  belonging  to  his 
body-guard.  That  abstract  deity  of  the  Old  Testament — 
awful  in  His  love  and  His  hate,  without  form,  without  hu- 
manity—  had  been  replaced  by  a  Man,  visible,  tangible, 
lovable ;  and  all  the  yearning  of  their  souls,  all  that  sup- 
pressed longing  for  a  visual  object  of  worship  which  had 
found  vent  and  satisfaction  in  the  worship  of  the  Bible  or 
the  Talmud  in  its  every  letter  and  syllable,  now  went  out 

155 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

towards  their  bodily  Redeemer.  From  the  Ancient  of 
Days  a  new  divine  being  had  been  given  off  —  the  Holy 
King,  the  Messiah,  the  Primal  Man,  Androgynous,  Per- 
fect, who  would  harmonize  the  jarring  chords,  restore  the 
spiritual  unity  of  the  Universe.  Before  the  love  in  his 
eyes  sin  and  sorrow  would  vanish  as  evil  vapors  ;  the  frozen 
streams  of  grace  would  flow  again. 

"I,  the  Lord  your  God,  Sabbatai  Zevi !" 

Thus  did  Secretary  Samuel  Primo  sign  the  Messianic  de- 
crees and  ordinances. 

XVII 

The  month  of  Ab  approached — the  Messiah's  birthday, 
the  day  of  the  Black  Fast,  commemorating  the  fall  of  the 
Temples.  But  Melisselda  protested  against  its  celebration 
by  gloom  and  penance,  and  the  word  went  out  to  all  the 
liosts  of  captivity — 

''The  only  and  Just-begotten  Son  of  God,  Sabbatai  Zevi, 
Messiah  and  Redeemer  of  the  people  of  Israel,  to  all  the 
sons  of  Israel,  Peace  !  Since  ye  have  been  worthy  to  be- 
hold the  great  day,  and  the  fulfilment  of  God's  word  to  the 
prophets,  let  your  lament  and  sorrow  be  changed  into  joy, 
and  your  fasts  into  festivals ;  for  ye  shall  weep  no  more. 
Rejoice  with  drums,  organs,  and  music,  making  of  every 
day  a  New  Moon,  and  change  the  day  which  was  formerly 
dedicated  to  sadness  and  sorrow  into  a  day  of  jubilee,  be- 
cause I  have  appeared  ;  and  fear  ye  naught,  for  ye  shall 
have  dominion  not  only  over  the  nations,  but  over  the 
creatures  also  in  the  depths  of  the  sea." 

Thereat  arose  a  new  and  stranger  commotion  throughout 
all  the  Ghettos,  Jewries,  and  Mellahs.  The  more  part  re- 
ceived the  divine  message  in  uproarious  jubilation.  The 
Messiah  was  come,  indeed  !     Those   terrible  twenty -four 

150 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

hours  of  absolute  fasting  and  passionate  prayer — hencefor- 
ward to  be  hours  of  feasting  and  merriment !  0  just  and 
joyous  edict !  The  Jewish  Kingdom  Avas  on  the  eve  of 
restoration — how  then  longer  bewail  its  decay  !^ 

But  the  staunchest  pietists  were  staggered,  and  these 
the  most  fervent  of  the  followers  of  Sabbatai.  What !  The 
penances  and  prayers  of  sixteen  hundred  years  to  be  swept 
away  !  The  Yoke  of  the  Torah  to  be  abolished  !  Surely 
true  religion  rather  demanded  fresh  burdens.  What  could 
more  fitly  mark  the  Redemption  of  the  World  than  new 
and  more  exacting  laws,  if,  indeed,  such  remained  to  be 
invented  ?  True,  God  himself  was  now  incarnate  on  earth 
—of  that  they  had  no  doubt.  But  how  could  He  wish  to 
do  away  with  the  laws  deduced  from  the  Holy  Book  and 
accumulated  by  the  zealous  labors  of  so  many  generations 
of  faithful  Rabbis  ;  how  could  He  set  aside  the  venerated 
prescriptions  of  the  Sliulchan  Arucli  of  the  pious  Benjamin 
Caro  (his  memory  for  a  blessing),  and  all  that  network  of 
ceremonial  and  custom  for  the  zealous  maintenance  of 
which  their  ancestors  had  so  often  laid  down  their  lives  ? 
How  could  He  so  blaspheme  ? 

And  so — in  blind  passion,  unreasoning,  obstinate — they 
clung  to  their  threatened  institutions  ;  in  every  Jewry 
they  formed  little  parties  for  the  defence  of  Judaism. 

What  they  had  prayed  for  so  passionately  for  centuries 
had  come  to  pass.  The  hopes  that  they  had  caught  from 
the  Zohar,  that  they  had  nourished  and  repeated  day  and 
night,  the  promise  that  sorrow  should  be  changed  into  joy 
and  the  Law  become  null  and  void — here  was  the  fulfil- 
ment. The  Messiah  was  actually  incarnate — the  Kingdom 
of  the  Jews  was  at  hand.  But  in  their  hearts  was  a  vague 
fear  of  the  dazzling  present,  and  a  blind  clinging  to  the 
unhappy  past. 

In  the  Jewry  of  Smyrna  the  Messiah  walked  on  the  ufter- 

157 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

noou  of  the  abolished  fast,  and  a  vast  concourse  seethed 
around  him,  dancing  and  singing,  with  flute  and  timbrel, 
harp  and  drum.  Melisselda's  voice  led  the  j)salm  of  praise. 
Suddenly  a  whisper  ran  through  the  mob  that  there  were 
unbelievers  in  the  city,  that  some  were  actually  fasting  and 
praying  in  the  synagogue.  And  at  once  there  was  a  wild 
rush.  They  found  the  doors  shut,  but  the  voice  of  wailing 
was  heard  from  inside. 

"  Beat  in  the  doors  !"  cried  Isaac  Silvera.  "  "What  do 
they  within,  profaning  the  festal  day  ?" 

The  crowd  battered  in  the  doors,  they  tore  up  the  stones 
of  the  street  and  darted  inside. 

The  floor  was  strewn  with  worshippers,  rocking  to  and 
fro. 

The  venerable  Aaron  de  la  Papa,  shorn  of  his  ancient 
Rabbinical  prestige,  but  still  a  commanding  figure,  rose 
from  the  floor,  his  white  shroud  falling  weirdly  about  him, 
his  face  deadly  pale  from  the  long  fast. 

"Haiti"  he  cried.  "How  dare  you  profane  the  House 
of  God  'r 

"  Blasphemers  !"  retorted  Silvera.  "Ye  who  pray  for 
what  God  in  His  infinite  mercy  has  granted,  do  ye  mock 
and  deride  Him  ?" 

But  Solomon  Algazi,  a  hoary- headed  zealot,  cried  out, 
"My  fathers  have  fasted  before  me,  and  shall  I  not  fast  ?" 

For  answer  a  great  stone  hurtled  through  the  air,  just 
grazing  his  head. 

"Give  over  I'^  shouted  Elias  Zevi,  one  of  Sabbatai's 
brothers.  "  Be  done  with  sadness,  or  thou  shalt  be 
stoned  to  death.  Hath  not  the  Lord  ended  our  long 
persecution,  our  weary  martyrdom  ?  Cease  thy  prayer,  or 
thy  blood  be  on  tliine  own  head."  Algazi  and  De  la  Papa 
were  driven  from  tlic  city  ;  the  Kofriw,  as  the  heretics 
were  dubbed,  were  obnoxious  to  excommunication.     The 

158 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

thunder  of  the  believers  silenced  the  still  small  voice  of 
doubt. 

And  from  the  Jewries  of  the  world,  from  Morocco  to 
Sardinia,  from  London  to  Lithuania,  from  the  Brazils  to 
the  Indies,  one  great  cry  in  one  tongue  rose  up:  — " Le- 
shauah  Haba  Beruslialayim — Leshanah  Haba  Beni  Chorin. 
Next  year  in  Jerusalem — next  year,  sons  of  freedom  !" 


XVIII 

It  Avas  the  eve  of  166G.  In  a  few  days  the  first  sun  of 
the  great  year  would  rise  upon  the  world.  The  Jews  were 
Avinding  up  their  affairs,  Israel  was  strung  to  fever  pitch. 
The  course  of  the  exchanges,  advices,  markets,  all  was 
ignored,  and  letters  recounting  miracles  replaced  commer- 
cial correspondence. 

Elijah  the  Prophet,  in  his  ancient  mantle,  had  been  seen 
everywhere  simultaneously,  drinking  the  wine-cups  left  out 
for  him,  and  sometimes  filling  them  Avith  oil.  He  was  seen 
at  Smyrna  on  the  wall  of  a  festal  chamber,  and  welcomed 
Avith  compliments,  orations,  and  thanksgivings.  At  Con- 
stantinople a  JcAV  met  him  in  the  street,  and  Avas  reproach- 
ed for  neglecting  to  Avear  the  fringed  garment  and  for 
shaving.  At  once  fringed  garments  were  reintroduced 
throughout  the  Empire,  and  heads,  though  ahvays  shaven 
after  the  manner  of  Turks  and  the  East,  now  became  over- 
groAvn  incommodiously  Avith  hair — even  the  riijos,  or  car- 
lock,  hung  again  down  the  side  of  the  face,  and  its  absence 
served  to  mark  off  the  Kofrim. 

Sabbatai  Zevi,  happy  in  the  love  of  Melisselda,  rapt  in 
heavenly  joy,  now  confidently  expecting  the  miracle  that 
Avould  crown  the  miracle  of  his  career,  prepared  to  set  out 
for  Constantinople  to  take  the  Crown  from  the  Sultan's 

159 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

head  to  the  sound  of  music.  He  hekl  Ji  last  solemn  levee 
at  Smyrna,  and  there,  surrounded  by  his  faithful  follow- 
ers, with  Melisselda  radiantly  enthroned  at  his  side,  he 
proceeded  to  parcel  out  the  world  among  his  twenty -six 
lieutenants. 

Of  these  all  he  made  kings  and  princes.  His  brothers 
came  first.  Elias  Zevi  he  named  King  of  Kings,  and  Joseph 
Zevi  King  of  the  Kings  of  Juclah. 

''Into  thee,  0  Isaac  Silvera,^'  said  he,  "has  the  soul  of 
David,  King  of  Israel,  migrated.  Therefore  shalt  thou  be 
called  King  David  and  shalt  have  dominion  over  Persia. 
Thou,  0  Chayim  Inegna,  art  Jeroboam,  and  shalt  rule  over 
Araby.  Thou,  0  Daniel  Pinto,  art  Ililkiah,  and  thy  king- 
dom shall  be  Italia.  To  thee,  0  Matassia  Aschenesi,  who 
reincarnatest  Asa,  shall  be  given  Barbary,  and  thou, 
Mokiali  Gaspar,  in  whom  lives  the  soul  of  Zedekiah,  shalt 
reign  over  England."  And  so  the  partition  went  on,  Elias 
Azar  being  appointed  Vice-King  or  Vizier  of  Elias  Zevi, 
and  Joseph  Inernuch  Vizier  of  Joseph  Zevi. 

"  And  for  me  ?"  eagerly  interrupted  Abraham  Rubio, 
the  beggar  from  the  Morea. 

"I  had  not  forgotten  thee,"  answered  Sabbatai.  "Art 
thou  not  Josiah  ?" 

"  True — I  had  forgotten,"  murmured  the  beggar. 

"To  thee  I  give  Turkey,  and  the  seat  of  thine  empire 
shall  be  Smyrna." 

"  May  thy  Majesty  be  exalted  for  ever  and  ever,"  replied 
King  Josiah  fervently.  "  Verily  shall  I  sit  under  my  own 
fig-tree." 

Portugal  fell  to  a  Marrano  physician  who  had  escaped 
from  the  Inquisition.  Even  Sabbatai's  old  enemy,  Ciiayim 
Penya,  was  magnanimously  presented  with  a  kingdom. 

"  To  thee,  my  well-beloved  Raphael  Joseph  Chelebi  of 
Cairo,"  wound  \\\)  Sal)batai,  "  in  whose  palace  Melisselda 

160 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

became  my  Queen,  to  thee,  under  the  style  of  King  Joash, 
I  give  the  realm  of  Egypt.'"' 

The  Emperor  of  the  World  rose,  and  his  Kings  pros- 
trated themselves  at  his  feet. 

"  Prepare  yourselves,"  said  he.  ''  On  the  morning  of 
the  New  Year  we  set  out." 

AVhen  he  had  left  the  chamber  a  great  hubbub  broke  out. 
Wealthy  men  who  had  been  disappointed  of  kingdoms  es- 
sayed to  purchase  them  from  their  new  monarchs.  The 
bidding  for  the  Ottoman  Empire  was  particularly  high. 

"Away!  Flaunt  not  your  money-bags!"  cried  Abra- 
ham Rubio,  flown  with  new-born  nuijesty.  "  Know  ye  not 
that  this  Smyrna  is  our  capital  city,  and  we  could  confiscate 
your  gold  to  our  royal  exchequer  ?  Josiah  is  King  here." 
And  he  took  his  seat  upon  the  throne  vacated  by  Sabbatai. 
"  Get  ye  gone,  or  the  bastinado  and  the  bowstring  shall  be 
your  portion." 

XIX 

Punctually  with  the  dawn  of  the  Millennial  Year  the 
Turkish  Messiah,  with  his  Queen  and  his  train  of  Kings, 
took  ship  for  Constantinople  to  dethrone  the  Grand  Turk, 
the  Lord  of  Palestine.  He  voyaged  in  a  two-masted  Levan- 
tine Saic,  the  bulk  of  his  followers  travelling  overland. 
Though  his  object  had  been  dij^lomatically  unpublished, 
pompous  messages  from  Samuel  Primo  had  heralded  his 
advent.  The  day  of  his  arrival  was  fixed.  Constantinople 
was  in  a  ferment.  The  Grand  Vizier  gave  secret  orders  for 
his  arrest  as  a  rebel  ;  a  band  of  Chiauses  was  sent  to  meet 
the  Saic  in  the  harbor.  But  the  day  came  and  went  and 
no  Messiah.  Instead,  thunders  and  lightnings  and  rain 
and  gales  and  news  of  wrecks.  The  wind  was  norther- 
ly, as  commonly  in  the  Hellespont  and  Propontis,  and  it 
L  161 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

seemed  as  if  the  Saic  must  have  been  blown  out  of  her 
course. 

The  Jews  of  Constantinople  asked  news  of  every  vessel. 
The  captain  of  a  ketch  from  the  Isles  of  Marmora  told 
them  that  a  chember  had  cast  anchor  in  the  isles,  and  a 
tall  man,  clothed  in  white,  Avho  bestrode  the  deck,  being 
apprised  that  the  islanders  were  Christians,  had  raised  his 
finger,  whereupon  the  church  burnt  down.  When  at  last 
the  Jews  heard  of  the  safety  of  Sabbatai's  weather-beaten 
vessel,  which  had  made  for  a  point  on  the  coast  of  the  Dar- 
danelles, they  told  how  their  Master  had  ruled  the  waves 
and  the  winds  by  the  mere  reading  of  the  hundred  and 
sixteenth  Psalm.  But  the  news  of  his  safety  w^as  speedily 
followed  by  the  news  of  his  captivity ;  the  Viziers  offi- 
cers were  bringing  him  to  Constantinople. 

It  was  true  ;  yet  his  Mussulman  captors  were  not  with- 
out a  sense  of  the  majesty  of  their  prisoner,  for  they 
stopped  their  journey  at  Cheknese  Kutschuk,  near  the 
capital,  so  that  he  might  rest  for  the  Sabbath,  and  hither, 
apprised  in  advance  by  messenger,  the  Sabbatians  of  Con- 
stantinople hastened  with  food  and  money.  They  still  ex- 
pected to  see  their  Sovereign  arrive  with  pomp  and  pag- 
eantry, but  he  came  up  miserably  on  a  sorry  horse,  chains 
clanking  dismally  at  his  feet.  Yet  Avas  he  in  no  wise  dis- 
mayed. "I  am  like  a  woman  in  labor,"  he  said  to  his 
body-guard  of  Kings,  ''the  redoubling  of  Avhose  anguish 
marks  the  near  deliverance.  Ye  should  laugh  merrily,  like 
the  Rabbi  in  the  Talmud  when  he  saw  the  jackal  running 
about  the  ruined  walls  of  the  Temple  ;  for  till  the  proph- 
ecies are  utterly  fulfilled  the  glory  cannot  return."  And 
his  face  shone  with  conscious  deity. 

IIo  was  placed  in  a  khan  with  a  strong  guard.  But  his 
worshippers  bought  off  his  chains,  and  even  made  for  him 
a  kind  of  throne.    On  the  Sunday  his  captors  brought  him, 

162 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

and  him  alone,  to  Constantinople.  A  vast  gathering  of 
Jews  and  Turks — a  motley-colored  medley — awaited  him 
on  the  quay  ;  mounted  police  rode  about  to  keep  a  path 
for  the  disembarking  officers  and  to  prevent  a  riot.  At 
length,  amid  clamor  and  tumult,  Sabbatai  set  fettered  foot 
on  shore. 

His  sad,  noble  air,  the  beauty  of  his  countenance,  his  in- 
vincible silence,  set  a  circle  of  mystery  around  him.  Even 
the  Turks  had  a  moment  of  awe.     A  man-god,  surely  ! 

The  Pacha  had  sent  his  subordinate  with  a  guard  to 
transfer  him  to  the  Seraglio.  By  them  he  was  first  hastily 
conducted  into  the  custom-house,  the  guard  riding  among 
and  dispersing  the  crowd. 

Sabbatai  sat  npon  a  chest  as  majestically  as  though  it 
were  the  throne  of  Solomon. 

But  the  Sub  -  Pacha  shook  off  the  oppressive  emotion 
with  which  the  sight  of  Sabbatai  inspired  him. 

"Rise,  traitor,"  said  he,  "it  is  time  that  thou  shouldst 
receive  the  reward  of  thy  treasons  and  gather  the  fruit  of 
thy  follies."  And  therewith  he  dealt  Sabbatai  a  sounding 
box  of  the  ear. 

His  myrmidons,  relieved  from  the  tension,  exploded  in  a 
malicious  guffaw. 

Sabbatai  looked  at  the  brutal  dignitary  with  sad,  steady 
gaze,  then  silently  turned  the  other  cheek. 

The  Sub-Pacha  recoiled  with  an  uncanny  feeling  of  the 
supernatural ;  the  mockery  of  the  bystanders  was  hushed. 

Sabbatai  was  conducted  by  side  ways,  to  avoid  the  mob, 
to  the  Palace  of  the  Kaimacon,  the  Deputy- Vizier. 

"Art  thou  the  man,"  cried  the  Kaimacon,  "whom  the 
Jews  aver  to  have  wrought  miracles  at  Smyrna  ?  Now  is 
thy  t-ime  to  work  one,  for  lo  !  thy  treason  shall  cost  thee 
dear." 

**  Miracles  !"  replied  Sabbatai  meekly.     "  I — what  am  I 

163 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

but  a  poor  Jew,  come  to  collect  alms  for  my  poor  brethren 
ill  Jerusalem  ?  The  Jews  of  this  great  city  persuade 
themselves  that  my  blessing  will  bring  them  God's  grace ; 
they  flock  to  welcome  me.     Can  I  stay  them  ?" 

"  Thou  art  a  seditious  knave." 

*' An  arrant  impostor/' put  in  the  Sub-Pacha,  "with  the 
airs  of  a  god.  I  thought  to  risk  losing  my  arm  when  I 
cuffed  him  on  the  ear,  but  lo  !  'tis  stronger  than  ever." 
And  he  felt  his  muscle  complacently. 

"  To  gaol  with  the  rogue  !"  cried  the  Kaimacon. 

Sabbata'i,  his  face  and  mien  full  of  celestial  conviction, 
was  placed  in  the  loathsome  dungeon  which  served  as  a 
prison  for  Jewish  debtors. 


XX 

For  a  day  or  so  the  Moslems  made  merry  over  the  dis- 
concerted Jews  and  their  Messiah.  The  street -boys  ran 
after  the  Sabbatians,  shouting,  "Gheldi  mi?  GJieldi  mif" 
(Is  he  coming  ?  Is  he  coming  ?)  ;  the  very  bark  of  the 
street-dogs  sounded  sardonic.  But  soon  the  tide  turned. 
Sabbatai's  prophetic  retinue  testified  unshaken  to  their 
Master — Messiah  because  Sufferer.  Women  and  children 
were  rapt  in  mystic  visions,  and  miracles  took  place  in  the 
highways.  Moses  Suriel,  who  in  fun  had  feigned  to  call 
np  spirits,  suddenly  hearing  strange  singing  and  playing, 
fell  into  a  foaming  fury,  and  hollow  prophecies  issued  from 
him,  sublimely  eloquent  and  inordinately  rapid,  so  that 
on  his  recovery  he  went  about  crying,  "  Repent !  Repent ! 
I  was  a  mocker  and  a  sinner.  Repent !  Repent !"  The 
Moslems  themselves  began  to  waver.  A  Turkish  Dervish, 
clad  in  white  flowing  robes,  with  a  stick  in  his  hand, 
preached  in  the  street  corners  to  his  countrymen,  pro- 

164 


I 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

claiming  the  Jewish  Messiah.  "  Think  je"  he  cried,  "that 
to  wash  yonr  hands  stained  with  the  blood  of  the  poor  and 
full  of  booty,  or  to  bathe  your  feet  which  have  walked  in 
the  way  of  unrighteousness,  suffices  to  render  you  clean  ? 
Vain  imagination  !  God  has  heard  the  prayers  of  the  poor 
whom  ye  despise  !  He  will  raise  the  humble  and  abash 
the  proud."  Bastinadoed  in  vain  several  times,  he  was  at 
last  brought  before  the  Cadi,  who  sent  him  to  the  Timar- 
Hane,  the  mad-house.  But  the  doctors  testified  that  he 
was  sound,  and  he  was  again  haled  before  the  Cadi,  who 
threatened  him  with  death  if  he  did  not  desist.  "Kill 
me,"  said  the  Dervish  pleadingly,  "  and  ye  will  deliver  me 
from  the  spirits  which  possess  me  and  drive  me  to  proph- 
esy." Impressed,  the  Cadi  dismissed  him,  and  would  have 
laden  him  with  silver,  but  the  Dervish  refused  and  went 
his  rhapsodical  way.     And  in  the  heavens  a  comet  flamed. 

Soon  Sabbatai  had  a  large  Turkish  following.  The  Jews 
already  in  the  debtors'  dungeon  hastened  to  give  him  the 
best  place,  and  made  a  rude  throne  for  him.  He  became 
King  of  the  Prison.  Thousands  surged  round  the  gates 
daily  to  get  a  glimpse  of  him.  The  keeper  of  the  prison 
did  not  fail  to  make  his  profit  of  their  veneration,  and 
instead  of  the  five  aspres  which  friends  of  prisoners  had 
to  pay  for  the  privilege  of  a  visit,  he  charged  a  crown,  and 
grew  rapidly  rich.  Some  of  the  most  esteemed  Jews  at- 
tended a  whole  day  before  Sabbatai  in  the  Oriental  pos- 
tures of  civility  and  service — eyes  cast  down,  bodies  bend- 
ing forward,  and  hands  crossed  on  their  breasts.  Before 
these  visitors,  who  came  laden  with  gifts,  Sabbatai  main- 
tained an  equally  sublime  silence  ;  sometimes  he  Avould 
point  to  the  chapter  of  Genesis  recounting  how  Joseph 
issued  from  liis  dungeon  to  become  ruler  of  Egypt. 

"How  fares  thy  miserable  prisoner  ?"  casually  inquired 
the  Kaimacon  of  his  Sub-Pacha  one  day. 

165 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  Miserable  prisoner,  Sire  !"  ejaculated  the  Sub-Pacha. 
"  Nay,  happy  and  glorious  Monarch  !  The  prison  is  be- 
come a  palace.  Where  formerly  reigned  perpetual  dark- 
ness, incessant  wax  tapers  burn  ;  in  what  was  a  sewer  of 
filth  and  dung,  one  breathes  now  only  amber,  musk,  aloe- 
wood,  otto  of  roses,  and  every  perfume ;  where  men  per- 
ished of  hunger  now  obtains  every  luxury  ;  the  crumbs  of 
Sabbatai's  table  suffice  for  all  his  fellow-prisoners." 

The  Deputy-Vizier  was  troubled,  and  cast  about  for  what 
to  do. 

Meantime  the  fame  of  Sabbatai  grew.  It  was  said  that 
every  night  a  light  appeared  over  his  head,  sometimes  in 
stars,  sometimes  as  an  olive  bough.  Some  English  mer- 
chants in  Galata  visited  him  to  complain  of  their  Jewish 
debtors  at  Constantinople,  who  had  ceased  to  traffic  and 
would  not  discharge  their  liabilities.  Sabbatai  took  up  his 
quill  and  wrote  : 

"  To  you  the  Nation  of  Jews  who  expect  the  appearance 
of  the  Messiah  and  the  Salvation  of  Israel,  Peace  without 
end.  Whereas  we  are  informed  that  ye  are  indebted  to  sev- 
eral of  the  English  nation:  It  seemeth  right  unto  us  to  order 
you  to  make  satisfaction  to  these  your  just  debts  :  which  if 
you  refuse  to  do,  and  not  obey  us  herein,  know  ye  that  then 
ye  are  not  to  enter  with  us  into  our  Joys  and  Dominions." 

The  debts  were  instantly  paid,  and  the  glory  of  the 
occupant  of  the  debtors'  prison  waxed  greater  still.  The 
story  of  his  incarceration  and  of  the  homage  paid  him,  even 
by  Mussulmans,  spread  through  the  world.  What  !  The 
Porte — so  prompt  to  slay,  the  maxim  of  whose  polity  was 
to  have  the  Prince  served  by  men  he  could  raise  without 
envy  and  destroy  without  danger — the  Turk,  ever  ready 
with  the  cord  and  the  sack,  the  sword  and  the  bastinado, 
dared  not  put  to  death  a  rebel,  the  vaunted  dethrouer  of 
the  Sultan.     A  miracle  and  a  Messiah  indeed  ! 

If56 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 


XXI 

But  the  Kaimacon  was  embarking  for  the  war  with 
Crete  ;  in  his  absence  he  feared  to  leave  Sabbatai  in  the 
capital.  The  prisoner  was  therefore  transferred  to  the 
abode  of  State  prisoners,  the  Castle  of  the  Dardanelles  at 
Abydos,  with  orders  that  he  was  to  be  closely  confined,  and 
never  to  go  outside  the  gates.  But,  under  the  spell  of 
some  strange  respect,  or  in  the  desire  to  have  a  hold  upon 
them,  too,  the  Kaimacon  allowed  his  retinue  of  Kings  to 
accompany  him,  likewise  his  amanuensis,  Samuel  Primo, 
and  his  consort,  Melisselda. 

The  news  of  his  removal  to  better  quarters  did  not  fail 
to  confirm  the  faith  of  the  Sabbatians.  It  Avas  reported, 
moreover,  that  the  Janissaries  sent  to  take  him  fell  dead 
at  a  word  from  his  mouth,  and  being  desired  to  revive  them 
he  consented,  except  in  the  case  of  some  who,  he  said,  were 
not  true  Turks.  Then  he  went  of  his  own  accord  to  the 
Castle,  but  the  shackles  they  laid  on  his  feet  fell  from  him, 
converted  into  gold  with  which  he  gratified  his  true  and 
faithful  believers,  and,  spite  of  steel  bars  and  iron  locks,  he 
was  seen  to  walk  through  the  streets  with  a  numerous  at- 
tendance. Nor  did  the  Sabbatians  fail  to  find  mystic  sig- 
nificance in  the  fact  that  their  Messiah  arrived  at  his  new 
prison  on  the  Eve  of  Passover — of  the  anniversary  of  Free- 
dom. 

Sabbatai  at  once  proceeded  to  kill  the  Paschal  lamb 
for  himself  and  his  followers,  and  eating  thereof  with 
the  fat,  in  defiance  of  Talmudic  Law,  he  exclaimed  : — 
''Blessed  be  God  who  hath  restored  that  which  was  for- 
bidden." 

To  the  Tower  of  Strength,  as  the  Sabbatians  called  the 
castle   at  Abydos,  wherein  the    Messiah  held   his   Court, 

167 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

streamed  treasure-laden  pilgrims  from  Poland,  Germany, 
Italy,  Vienna,  Amsterdam,  Cairo,  Morocco,  thinking  by 
the  pious  journey  to  become  worthy  of  seeing  his  face  ;  and 
Sabbatai  gave  them  his  benediction,  and  promised  them 
increase  of  their  stores  and  enlargement  of  their  posses- 
sions in  the  Holy  Land.  The  ships  were  overburdened 
with  passengers  ;  freights  rose.  The  natives  grew  rich  by 
accommodating  the  pilgrims,  the  castellan  (interpreting 
liberally  the  Kaimacon's  instructions  to  mean  that  though 
the  prisoner  might  not  go  out  visitors  might  come  in)  by 
charging  them  fifteen  to  thirty  marks  for  admission  to  the 
royal  precincts.  A  shower  of  gold  poured  into  Abydos. 
Jew,  Moslem,  Christian  —  the  whole  world  wondered,  and 
half  of  it  believed.  The  beauty  and  gaiety  of  Melisselda 
witched  the  stubbornest  sceptics.  Men's  thoughts  turned 
to  "  The  Tower  of  Strength,"  from  the  far  ends  of  the 
world.  Never  before  in  human  history  had  the  news  of  a 
Messiah  travelled  so  widely  in  his  own  lifetime.  To  con- 
sole those  who  could  not  make  the  pilgrimage  to  him  or  to 
Jerusalem,  Sabbatai  promised  equal  indulgence  and  privi- 
lege to  all  who  should  pray  at  the  tombs  of  their  mothers. 
His  initials,  S.  Z.,  were  ornamentally  inscribed  in  letters  of 
gold  over  almost  every  synagogue,  with  a  crown  on  the 
wall,  in  the  circle  of  which  was  the  ninety-first  Psalm,  and 
a  prayer  for  him  was  inserted  in  the  liturgy  :  "  Bless  our 
Lord  and  King,  the  holy  and  righteous  Sabbatai  Zevi,  the 
Messiah  of  the  God  of  Jacob." 

The  Ghettos  began  to  break  up.  AVork  and  business 
dwindled  in  the  most  sceptical.  In  Hungary  the  Jews 
commenced  to  demolish  their  houses.  The  great  commer- 
cial centres,  which  owed  their  vitality  to  the  Jews,  were 
paralyzed.  The  very  Protestants  wavered  in  their  Chris- 
tianity. Amsterdam,  under  the  infection  of  Jewish  enthu- 
siasm, effervesced  with    joy.     At  Hamburg,   despite   the 

168 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

epistolary  ironies  of  Jacob  Sasportas,  the  rare  Kofrim,  or 
Anti-Sabbatians,  were  forced,  by  order  of  Bendito  de  Ca^s- 
tro,  to  say  Amen  to  the  Messianic  prayer.  At  Livorne 
commerce  dried  up.  At  Venice  there  were  riots,  and  the 
Kofrim  were  threatened  with  death.  In  Moravia  the  Gover- 
nor had  to  interfere  to  calm  the  tumult.  At  Salee,  in  Al- 
geria, the  Jews  so  openly  displayed  their  conviction  of  their 
coming  dominance  that  the  Emir  decreed  a  persecution  of 
them.  At  Smyrna,  on  the  other  hand,  a  Chacham  who 
protested  to  the  Cadi  against  the  vagaries  of  his  brethren, 
was,  by  the  power  of  their  longer  purse,  shaved  of  his  beard 
and  condemned  to  the  galleys. 

Three  months  of  princely  wealth  and  homage  for  Sab- 
batai  had  passed.  In  response  to  the  joyous  inspiration  of 
Melisselda,  he  had  abandoned  all  his  ascetic  habits,  and 
lived  the  life  of  a  king,  ruling  a  world  never  again  to  be 
darkened  with  sin  and  misery.  The  wine  sparkled  and 
flowed,  the  choicest  dishes  adorned  the  banqueting-table, 
flowers  and  delicate  odors  made  grateful  the  air,  and  the 
beautiful  maidens  of  Israel  danced  voluptuously  before  him, 
shooting  out  passionate  glances  from  under  their  long  eye- 
lashes. The  fast  of  the  seventeenth  of  Tammuz  came 
round.  Sabbata'i  abolished  it,  proclaiming  that  on  that 
day  the  conviction  that  he  was  the  Messiah  had  been  borne 
in  upon  him.  The  ninth  of  Ab — the  day  of  his  Nativity — 
was  again  turned  from  a  fast  to  a  festival,  the  royal  edict, 
promulgated  throughout  the  world,  quoting  the  exhorta- 
tion of  Zephaniah  :  "  Sing  and  rejoice,  0  daughter  of 
Zion  ;  for  lo  I  come,  and  I  Avill  dwell  in  the  midst  of 
thee,  saith  the  Lord."  Detailed  prescriptions  as  to  the 
order  of  the  services  and  the  psalmody  accompanied  the 
edict. 

And  in  this  supreme  day  of  jubilation  and  merrymaking, 
of  majesty  and  splendor,  crowned  with  the  homage  and 

169 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

benison  of  his  race,  deputations  of  which  came  from  all 
climes  and  soils  to  do  honor  to  his  nativity,  the  glory  of 
Sabbatai  culminated. 

{Here  endeih  the  Second  Scroll.) 


SCROLL  THE   THIRD 
XXII 

In  the  hour  of  his  triumph,  two  Poles,  who  had  made 
the  pious  pilgrimage,  told  him  of  a  new  Prophet  who  had 
appeared  in  far-off  Lemberg,  one  Nehemiah  Cohen,  who 
announced  the  advent  of  the  Kingdom,  but  not  through 
Sabbatai  Zevi. 

That  night,  when  his  queen  and  his  courtiers  were  sleep- 
ing, Sabbatai  wrestled  sore  with  himself  in  his  lonely  audi- 
ence-chamber. The  spectre  of  self-doubt — long  laid  to  rest 
by  music  and  pageantry — was  raised  afresh  by  this  new  and 
unexpected  development.  It  was  a  rude  reminder  that 
this  pompous  and  voluptuous  existence  was,  after  all,  pre- 
mature, that  the  Kingdom  had  yet  to  be  won. 

"  0  my  Father  in  Heaven  !"  he  prayed,  falling  upon  his 
face.  "  Thou  hast  not  deceived  me.  Tell  me  that  this 
Prophet  is  false,  I  beseech  Thee,  that  it  is  through  me  that 
Thy  Kingdom  is  to  be  established  on  earth.  I  await  the 
miracle.  The  days  of  the  great  year  are  nigh  gone,  and 
lo  !  I  languish  here  in  mock  majesty.     A  sign  !     A  sign  !" 

"  Sabbatai !"  A  ravisliing  voice  called  his  name.  He 
looked  up.  Melisselda  stood  in  the  doorway,  come  from 
her  chamber  as  lightly  clad  as  on  that  far-off  morning  in 
the  cemetery. 

There  was  a  strange  rapt  expression  in  her  face,  and, 

170 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

looking  closer,  he  saw  that  her  laughing  eyes  were  veiled 
in  sleep, 

'*'  It  is  the  sign,"  he  muttered  in  awe. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  took  her  white  hand,  that 
burnt  his  own,  and  she  led  him  back  to  her  chamber,  walk- 
ing unerringly. 

"  It  is  the  sign,"  he  murmured,  "  the  sign  that  Melissel- 
da  hath  truly  led  me  to  the  Kingdom  of  Joy." 

But  in  the  morning  he  awoke  still  troubled.  The  mean- 
ing of  the  sign  seemed  less  clear  than  in  the  silence  of 
the  night ;  the  figure  of  the  new  Prophet  loomed  om- 
inous. 

When  the  Poles  went  back  they  bore  a  royal  letter,  prom- 
ising the  Polish  Jews  vengeance  on  the  Cossacks,  and  com- 
manding Nehemiah  to  come  to  the  Messiah  with  all 
speed. 

The  way  was  long,  but  by  the  beginning  of  September 
Nehemiah  arrived  in  Abydos.  He  was  immediately  re- 
ceived in  private  audience.    He  bore  himself  independently. 

"  Peace  to  thee,  Sabbatai." 

''Peace  to  thee,  Nehemiah.  I  desired  to  have  speech 
with  thee  ;  men  say  thou  deniest  me." 

"That  do  I.  How  should  Messiah  —  Messiah  of  the 
House  of  David,  appear  and  not  his  forerunner,  Messiah  of 
the  House  of  Ephraim,  as  our  holy  books  foretell  ?"  Sab- 
batai  answered  that  the  Ben  Ephraim  had  already  appeared, 
but  he  could  not  convince  Nehemiah,  who  proved  highly 
learned  in  the  Hebrew,  the  Syriac,  and  the  Chaldean,  and 
argued  point  by  point  and  text  by  text.  The  first  Messiah 
was  to  be  a  preacher  of  the  Law,  poor,  despised,  a  servant 
of  the  second.     AVhere  was  he  to  be  found  ? 

Three  days  they  argued,  but  Nehemiah  still  went  about 
repeating  his  rival  prophecies.  The  more  zealous  of  the 
Sabbatians,  angry  at  the  pertinacious  and  pugnacious  casu- 

171 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

ist,  would  have  done  him  a  mischief,  but  the  Prophet  of 
Lemberg  thought  it  prudent  to  escape  to  Adrianople.  Here 
in  revenge  he  sought  audience  with  the  Kaimacon. 

*'  Treason,  0  Mustapha,  treason  !"  he  announced.  He 
betrayed  the  fantastic  designs  upon  the  Sultan's  crown, 
still  cherished  by  Sabbatai  and  known  to  all  but  the  Divan; 
the  Castellan  of  Abydos,  for  the  sake  of  his  pocket,  having 
made  no  report  of  the  extraordinary  doings  at  the  Castle. 

Nehemiah  denounced  Sabbatai  as  a  lewd  person,  who  en- 
deavored to  debauch  the  minds  of  the  Jews  and  divert 
them  from  their  honest  course  of  livelihood  and  obedience 
to  the  Grand  Seignior.  And,  having  thus^ avenged  himself, 
the  Prophet  of  Lemberg  became  a  Mohammedan. 

A  Chiaus  was  at  once  dispatched  to  the  Sultan,  and  there 
was  held  a  Council.  The  problem  was  grave.  To  execute 
Sabbatai — beloved  as  he  was  by  Jew  and  Turk  alike — would 
be  but  to  perpetuate  the  new  sect.  The  Mufti  Vanni  —  a 
priestly  enthusiast — proposed  that  they  should  induce  him 
to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  Nehemiah,  and  come  over  to 
Islam.  The  suggestion  seemed  not  only  shrewd,  but  tend- 
ing to  the  greater  glory  of  Mohammed,  the  one  true  Proph- 
et. An  aga  set  out  forthwith  for  Abydos.  And  so  one  fine 
day  when  the  Castle  of  the  Dardanelles  was  besieged  by 
worshippers,  when  the  Tower  of  Strength  was  gay  with 
brightly  clad  kings,  and  filled  with  pleasant  plants  and 
odors  and  the  blended  melodies  of  instruments  and  voices, 
a  body  of  moustachioed  Janissaries  flashed  upon  the 
scene,  dispersing  the  crowd  with  their  long  wands ;  they 
seized  the  Messiah  and  his  queen,  and  brought  them  to 
Adrianople. 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 


XXIII 

The  Hakim  Bashi,  the  Sultan's  physician,  who  as  a  Jew- 
Turk  himself,  was  thought  to  be  the  fittest  to  approach 
Sabbata'i,  laid  the  decision  of  the  Grand  Seignior  before 
him  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival  at  Adrianople.  The  re- 
leased prisoner  was  lodged  with  mocking  splendor  in  a 
commodious  apartment  in  the  palace,  overlooking  the  river, 
and  lay  upon  a  luxurious  divan,  puffing  at  a  chibouque  with 
pretended  calm. 

"'  What  reverences  is  it  customary  to  make  to  the  Grand 
Seignior  ?"  he  asked,  with  affected  nonchalance,  when  the 
first  salutations  with  the  physician  had  been  exchanged. 
"  I  would  not  be  wanting  in  the  forms  when  I  appear  be- 
fore his  exalted  majesty." 

''An  end  to  the  farce,  Sabbatai  Zevi  V  said  the  Hakim 
Bashi,  sternly.  "  The  Sultan  demands  of  thee  not  postur- 
ings,  but  a  miracle." 

"Have  not  miracles  enough  been  witnessed?"  asked 
Sabbatai,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Too  many,"  returned  the  ex-Jew  drily.  "  Yet  if  thou 
wouldst  save  thy  life  there  needs  another." 

"  What  miracle  ?" 

"  That  thou  turn  Turk  I"  And  a  faint  smile  played 
about  the  physician's  lips. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Sabbatai's  own  lips  twitclied, 
but  not  with  humor.  The  regal  radiance  of  Abydos  had 
died  out  of  his  face,  but  its  sadness  was  rather  of  misery 
than  the  fine  melancholy  of  yore. 

"  And  if  I  refuse  this  miracle  ?" 

''Thou  must  give  us  a  substitute.  The  Mufti  Vanni 
suggests  that  thou  be  stript  naked  and  set  as  a  mark  for 
the  archers ;  if  thy  flesh  and  skin  are  proof  like  armor,  we 

173 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

shall  recognize  thee  as  the  Messiah  indeed,  and  the  person 
designed  by  Allah  for  the  dominions  and  greatnesses  to 
which  thon  dost  pretend." 

"And  if  I  refuse  this  miracle,  too  ?" 

"Then  the  stake  Avaits  at  the  gate  of  the  seraglio  to  com- 
pel thee,"  thundered  the  Hakim  Bashi ;  "thou  shalt  die 
with  tortures.  The  mercy  of  decapitation  shall  be  denied 
thee,  for  thou  knowest  well  Mohammedans  will  not  pollute 
their  swords  with  the  blood  of  a  Jew.  Be  advised  by  me, 
Sabbatai,"  he  continued,  lowering  his  tone.  "Become  one 
of  us.  After  all,  the  Moslem  are  but  the  posterity  of  Hagar. 
Mohammed  is  but  the  successor  of  Moses.  We  recognize 
the  One  God  who  rules  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  we  eat 
not  swine-flesh.  Thou  canst  Messiah  it  in  a  white  turban 
as  well  as  in  a  black,"  he  ended  jocosely. 

Sabbatai  winced.     "Renegade  !"  he  muttered. 

"  Ay,  and  an  excellent  exchange,"  quoth  the  physician. 
"The  Sultan  is  a  generous  paymaster,  may  his  shadow 
never  grow  less.  He  givetli  thee  till  the  morn  to  decide — 
Turk  or  martyr  ?  With  burning  torches  attached  to  thy 
limbs  thou  art  to  be  whipped  through  the  streets  with  fiery 
scourges  in  the  sight  of  the  people — such  is  the  Sultan's 
decree.  He  is  a  generous  paymaster.  After  all,  what  need 
we  pretend — between  ourselves,  two  Jews,  eh  ?"  And  he 
winked  drolly.  "The  sun  greets  Mohammed  every  morn, 
say  these  Turks.  Let  to-morrow's  greet  another  Moham- 
medan." 

Sabbatai  sj^rang  up  with  an  access  of  majesty. 

"Dog  of  an  unbeliever  !     Get  thee  gone  !" 

"  Till  to-morrow  !  The  Sultan  will  give  thee  audience 
to-morrow,"  said  the  Hakim  Basiii  imperturbably,  and, 
making  a  mock  respectful  salutation,  he  withdrew  from 
the  apartment. 

Melisselda  had  been  dosing  in  an  inner  chamber  after  the 

174 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

fatigue  of  the  journey,  but  the  concludiug  thunders  of  the 
duologue  had  aroused  her,  and  she  heard  the  physician's 
farewell  words.  She  now  parted  the  hangings  and  looked 
through  at  Sabbatai,  her  loveliness  half-framed,  half -hidden 
by  the  tapestry.  Her  face  was  wreathed  in  a  heavenly 
smile. 

"  Sabbatai  !"  she  breathed. 

He  turned  a  frowning  gaze  iipon  her.  "  Thou  art  mer- 
ry !"  he  said  bitterly. 

''Is  not  the  hour  come  ?"  she  cried  joyously. 

*' Yea,  the  hour  is  come,"  he  murmured. 

"The  hour  of  thy  final  trial  and  triumph  !  The  longed- 
for  hour  of  thy  appearance  before  the  Sultan,  when  thou 
wilt  take  the  crown  from  his  head  and  place  it  on — " 

Instead  of  completing  the  sentence,  she  ran  to  take  his 
head  to  her  bosom.  But  he  repulsed  her  embracing  arms. 
She  drew  back  in  consternation.  It  was  the  first  time  she 
had  known  him  rough,  not  only  with  her,  but  with  any 
creature. 

"  Leave  me  !     Leave  me  !"  he  cried  huskily. 

"Nay,  thou  tieedest  me."  And  her  forgiving  arms 
spread  towards  him  in  fresh  tenderness. 

He  looked  at  her  without  moving  to  meet  them. 

"Ay,  I  need  thee,"  he  said  pathetically.  "  Therefore," 
and  his  voice  rose  firm  again,  "  leave  me  to  myself." 

"Thou  hast  become  a  stranger,"  she  said  tremulously. 
"I  do  not  understand  thee." 

"  Would  thou  hadst  ever  been  a  stranger,  that  I  had 
never  understood  thee." 

*' Sabbatai,  thou  ravest." 

"  I  have  come  to  my  senses.  O  my  God  !  my  God  !"  and 
he  fell  a-weeping  on  the  divan. 

Melisselda's  alarm  grew  greater. 

"Eouse  thyself,  they  will  hear  thee." 

175 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  Let  them  hear.     God  hears  me  not." 

"  Hears  thee  not  ?     Thou  art  He  !" 

"  I  God  1"  He  laughed  bitterly.  "  Thou  believest  that ! 
Thou  who  knowest  me  man  !" 

"  I  know  thee  all  divine.  I  have  worshipped  thee  in 
jo}'.     Art  thou  not  Messiah  ?" 

"  Messiah  !     Who  cannot  save  myself  V 

"  Who  can  hurt  thee  ?  Who  hath  ever  hurt  thee  from 
thy  youth  up  ?  The  Angels  watch  over  thy  footsteps.  Is 
not  thy  life  one  long  miracle  ?" 

He  shook  his  head  hopelessly.  "  All  this  year  I  have 
waited  the  miracle — all  those  weary  months  in  the  dungeon 
of  Constantinople,  in  the  Castle  of  Abydos — but  what  sure 
voice  hath  spoken  ?  To-morrow  I  shall  be  disembowelled, 
lashed  with  fiery  scourges — who  knows  what  these  dogs 
may  do  ?" 

"Hush!  hush!" 

*'Ah,  thou  fearest  for  me  !"  he  cried,  in  perverse  tri- 
umph.    "  Thou  knowest  I  am  but  mortal  man  !" 

The  roses  of  her  beautiful  cheek  had  faded,  but  she 
spoke,  unflinching. 

''Nay,  1  believe  on  thee  still.  I  followed  thee  to  thy 
prison,  unwitting  it  would  turn  into  a  palace.  I  follow 
thee  to  thy  torture  to-morrow,  trusting  it  will  be  the  crown- 
ing miracle  and  the  fiery  scourges  Avill  turn  into  angels' 
feathers.  It  is  the  word  of  Zechariah  fulfilled.  '  In  that 
day  will  I  make  the  governors  of  Judah  like  an  hearth 
of  fire  among  the  wood,  and  like  a  torch  of  fire  in  a 
sheaf.'" 

His  eyes  grew  humid  as  he  looked  up  at  her.  "Yea, 
Melisselda,  thou  hast  been  true  and  of  good  courage.  And 
now,  when  I  am  alone,  when  the  shouts  of  the  faithful 
have  died  away,  when  the  King  of  the  World  lies  here 
alone  in  darkness  and  ashes,  thou  hast  faith  still  ?" 

176 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

''Ay,  I  believe  —  'tis  but  a  trial,  the  final  trial  of  my 
faith." 

She  smiled  at  him  confidently ;  hope  quickened  within 
him.  "If  this  were  but  a  trial,  the  final  trial  of  my 
faith  V  he  murmured.  "But  no — ere  that  white  strip  of 
moon  rises  again  in  the  heavens  I  shall  be  a  mangled 
corpse,  the  feast  of  Avolves,  unless — I  have  prayed  for  a 
sign — oh,  how  I  have  prayed,  and  now — ah,  see  I  A  star 
is  falling.  0  my  God,  that  this  should  be  the  end  of  my 
long  martyrdom  !  But  the  punishment  of  my  arrogance 
is  greater  than  I  can  bear.  God,  God,  why  didst  Thou 
send  me  those  divine-seeming  whispers,  those  long,  long 
thoughts  that  thrilled  my  soul  ?  Why  didst  Thou  show 
me  the  sin  of  Israel  and  his  suffering,  the  sorrow  and  evil 
of  the  world,  inspiring  me  to  redeem  and  regenerate  ?" 
His  breast  swelled  with  hysteric  sobs. 

"My  Sabbatai  I"  Melisselda's  warm  arms  were  round 
him.  He  threw  her  off  with  violence.  "  Back,  back  !" 
he  cried.  "I  understand  the  sign;  I  understand  at  last. 
'Tis  through  thee  that  I  have  forfeited  the  divine  grace." 

"Through  me  ?"  she  faltered. 

"Yea;  thy  lips  have  wooed  mine  away  from  prayer, 
thine  arms  have  drawn  me  down  from  the  steeps  of  right- 
eousness. Thou  hast  made  me  unfaithful  to  my  bride, 
the  Law.  For  nigh  forty  years  I  lived  hard  and  lonely, 
steeped  my  body  in  ice  and  snow,  lashed  myself — ay,  lashed 
myself,  I  who  now  fear  the  lash — till  the  blood  ran  from  a 
dozen  wounds,  and  now,  0  God  !  0  God  !  Woman,  thou 
hast  polluted  me  !  I  have  lost  the  divine  spirit.  It  hath 
gone  out  from  me ;  it  will  incarnate  itself  in  another,  in  a 
nobler.     Once  I  was  Messiah,  now  I  am  man." 

"  I  ? — I  took  from  thee  the  divine  spirit !" 

She  looked  at  him  in  all  the  flush  of  her  beauty,  grown 
insolent  again. 

M  177 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

He  sprang  up,  he  fell  upon  her  breast,  he  kissed  her  lips 
madly. 

"Nay,  nay,  thou  hast  shown  it  me  !  Love  !  Love  !  'tis 
Love  that  breatlies  through  all  things,  that  lifts  the  burden 
of  life.  But  for  thee  I  should  have  passed  away,  unknow- 
ing the  glory  of  manhood.  I  am  a  man — a  man  rejoicing 
in  his  strength  !  O  my  starved  youth  I  why  did  I  not  be- 
hold thee  earlier?"  Tears  of  self-pity  rolled  down  his 
ashen  cheek.  ''0  my  love!  my  love!  my  lost  youth! 
Give  me  back  my  youth,  0  God  !  AVho  am  I,  to  save  ?  A 
man  ;  yea,  a  man,  glorying  in  manhood.  Ah  !  happy  are 
they  who  lead  the  common  fate  of  men,  happy  in  love,  in 
home,  in  children  ;  avoc  for  those  who  would  climb,  Avho 
would  torture  and  deny  themselves,  who  would  save  hu- 
manity ?  From  Avhat  ?  If  they  have  Love,  have  they  not 
all  ?  It  is  God,  it  is  the  Kingdom.  It  is  the  Kingdom. 
Come,  let  us  live — I  a  man,  thou  a  woman  !" 

"  But  a  Mussulman  V 

•'What  imports?  God  is  everywhere.  Was  not  our 
Maimonides — he  at  whose  tomb  Ave  Avorship  in  Tiberias — 
himself  once  a  Mussulman  ?  Did  he  not  say  that  if  it  be 
to  save  our  lives  naught  is  forbidden  ?" 

He  moved  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  but  this  time  it  was 
she  that  drew  back.     Her  eyes  flashed. 

"Nay,  as  a  man,  I  love  thee  not.  Thou  art  divine  or 
naught ;  God  or  Impostor  !" 

"Melisselda  I"     She  ignored  his  stricken  cry. 

"Nay,  this  ordeal  hath  endured  long  enough,"  she  re- 
plied sternly.     "  Confess,  I  have  been  proof." 

"  I  am  neither  God  nor  Impostor,"  he  said  brokenly. 
"All!  say  not  that  thou  canst  not  love  me  as  a  man. 
When  thou  didst  first  come  to  bless  my  life  I  had  not  yet 
declared  myself  Messiah." 

"  Who  knoAvs  what  I  thought  then  ?    A  Avild  girl,  crazed 

178 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

by  the  convent,  by  the  blood  shed  before  my  childish  eyes, 
I  came  to  thee  full  of  lawless  passions  and  fantastic  dreams. 
But  as  I  lived  with  thee,,  as  I  saw  the  beauty  of  thy  thought, 
thy  large  compassion,  the  purity  of  thy  life  amid  tempta- 
tions that  made  me  jealous  as  a  woman  of  Damascus,  then 
I  knew  thee  a  God  indeed." 

"Nay,  when  I  knew  thee  I  knew  myself  man.  But  as 
our  followers  grew,  as  faith  and  fortune  trod  in  my  foot- 
steps, my  blasj)hemous  dream  revived  ;  I  believed  in  thy 
vision  of  the  Kingdom.  When  I  divided  the  world  I 
thought  myself  Messiah  indeed.  But  as  I  sat  on  my 
throne  at  Abydos,  with  worshippers  from  the  world's  end 
kissing  my  feet,  a  hollow  doubt  came  over  me,  a  sense  of 
dream,  and  hollow  voices  echoed  ever  in  my  ear,  asking, 
'  Art  thou  Messiah  ?  Art  thou  Messiah  ?  Art  thou  Mes- 
siah ?'  I  strove  to  drown  them  in  the  festive  song  ;  but  in 
the  stillness  of  the  night,  when  thou  wast  sleeping  at  my 
side,  the  voices  came  back,  and  they  cried  mockingly, 
*  Man  !     Man  !     Man  !'    And  when  Nehemiah  came — " 

''  Man  !"  interrupted  Melisselda  impatiently.  "  Cease 
to  cozen  me.  Have  I  not  known  men  ?  Ay,  who  more  ? 
Their  weaknesses,  their  vanities,  their  lewdnesses — enough  ! 
To-morrow  thou  shalt  assert  the  God." 

He  threw  himself  back  on  the  divan  and  sighed  wearily. 
"Leave  me,  Melisselda.  Go  to  thy  rest ;  to-iiight  I  must 
keep  vigil  alone.     Perchance  it  is  my  last  night  on  earth." 

Her  countenance  lit  up.  "  Yea,  to-morrow  comes  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven."  And  smiling  ineffable  trust,  she 
stooped  down  and  lightly  kissed  his  hair,  then  glided  from 
the  room. 

And  in  his  sleepless  brain  and  racked  soul  went  on, 
through  that  unending  night,  the  terrible  tragedy  of  doubt, 
tempered  by  spells  of  spasmodic  prayer.  A  God,  or  a 
Man?     A  Messiah  undergoing  liis  Father's  last  tempta- 

179 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

tion;  or  a  martyr  on  the  eve  of  liorrible  death  ?  And  if 
the  victim  of  a  monstrous  self-delusion,  what  mattered 
whether  one  lived  out  one's  years  of  shame  as  Jew  or  Mus- 
sulman ?  Nobler,  perhaps,  to  die,  and  live  as  an  heroic 
memory  —  but  then  to  leave  Melisselda  !  To  leave  her 
warm  breast  and  the  sunlight  and  the  green  earth,  and  all 
that  beauty  of  the  world  and  of  human  life  to  which  his 
eyes  had  only  been  unsealed  after  a  lifetime  of  self-tortur- 
ing blindness  ? 

"0  God!  0  God!"  he   cried,  "wherefore   hast   Thou 
mocked  and  abandoned  me  ?" 


XXIV 

Early  in  the  forenoon  the  light  touch  of  a  loved  hand 
upon  his  shoulder  roused  him  from  deeps  of  reverie. 

He  uplifted  a  white,  haggard  face.  Melisselda  stood  be- 
fore him  in  all  her  dazzling  freshness,  like  a  radiant  spirit 
come  to  chase  the  demons  of  the  night.  The  ancient  Span- 
ish song  came  into  his  mind,  and  the  sweet,  sad  melody 
vibrated  in  his  soul. 

From  her  bath  she  arose, 
Pure  and  white  as  the  snows, 

Melisselda. 
CoKil  only  at  lips 
And  at  sweet  finger-tips, 

Melisselda. 

His  eyes  filled  with  tears— the  divine  dreams  of  youth 
stirred  faintly  witiiin  him. 

"Is  it  Peace  with  thee  ?"  she  asked. 
His  head  drooped  again  on  his  breast. 
"From  the  casement  I  saw  the  sun  rise  over  the  Marit- 

180 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

za,"  he  said,  *' kindling  the  sullen  waters,  but  my  faith  is 
still  gray  and  dead.  Nay,  rather  there  came  into  my  mind 
the  sublime  poem  of  Moses  Ibn  Ezra  of  Granada  :  '  Thy 
days  are  delusive  dreams  and  thy  life  as  yon  cloud  of  morn- 
ing :  whilst  it  tarries  over  thy  tabernacle  thou  may'st  re- 
main therein,  but  at  its  ascent  thou  art  dissolved  and  re- 
moved unto  a  place  unknown  to  thee.'  This  is  the  end, 
Melisselda,  the  end  of  my  great  delusion.  What  am  I  but 
a  man,  with  a  man's  pains  and  errors  and  self-deceptions, 
a  man's  life  that  blooms  but  once  as  a  rose  and  fades  while 
the  thorn  endures  ?"  The  ineffable  melancholy  of  his  ac- 
cents subdued  her  to  silence  :  for  the  moment  the  music 
of  his  voice,  his  sad  brooding  eyes,  the  infinite  despair  of 
his  attitude  swayed  her  to  a  mood  akin  to  his  own. 
''Verily  it  was  for  me,"  he  went  on,  "that  the  Sephardic 
poet  sang — 

'*  '  Eeflect  on  the  labor  thou  didst  undergo  under  the 
sun,  night  and  day,  without  intermission  ;  labor  which 
thou  knowest  well  to  be  without  profit ;  for,  verily  in  these 
many  years  thou  hast  walked  after  vanity  and  become 
vain.  Thou  wast  a  keeper  of  vineyards,  but  thine  own 
vineyard  thou  hast  not  kept ;  whilst  the  Eyes  of  the  Eter- 
nal run  to  and  fro  to  see  if  the  vine  hath  flourished, 
whether  the  tender  grapes  appear,  and,  lo  !  all  was  grown 
over  with  thorns ;  nettles  had  covered  the  face  thereof. 
Thou  hast  grown  old  and  gray,  thou  hast  strayed  but  not 
returned.'  Yea,  I  have  strayed,  but  is  the  gate  closed  for 
return  ?  To  be  a  man — only  a  man — how  great  that  is  !" 
His  voice  died  away,  and  with  it  the  sweet,  soothing  spell. 
Fire  glowed  in  Melisselda's  breast,  heaving  her  bosom, 
shooting  sparks  from  her  eyes. 

"Nay,  if  thou  art  only  a  man,  thou  art  not  even  a  man. 
My  love  is  dead." 

As  he  shrank  beneath  her  contempt,  another  stanza  of 

181 


DREAM EES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

his  ancient  song  sang  itself  involuntarily  in  his  brain.  Never 
had  he  seen  her  thus. 

In  the  pride  of  her  race, 
As  a  sword  shoue  her  face, 

Melisselda. 
And  her  lids  were  steel  bows, 
But  her  mouth  was  a  rose, 

Melisselda. 

Btit  her  month  was  a  rose.  Ah,  God,  the  pity  of  it,  to 
leave  the  rose  for  the  crown  of  thorns  ! 

*'  Melisselda  !"  he  cried,  with  a  sob.    "  Have  pity  on  rae." 

The  door  opened  ;  two  of  the  Imperial  Guards  appeared. 

"  Thou  slayest  me,"  he  said  in  Hebrew. 

"  I  worship  thee,"  she  answered  him,  in  the  same  sacred 
tongue.     Her  face  took  on  its  old  confident  smile. 

"But  I  am  a  man." 

Once  again  her  lids  were  steel  bows. 

"  Then  die  like  a  man  !  Thinkst  thou  I  would  share 
thy  humiliation  ?  If  I  am  to  be  a  Moslem's  bride,  let  me 
be  the  Sultan's.  If  I  am  not  to  share  the  Messiah's  throne, 
let  me  share  an  Emperor's.  Thy  Spanish  song  made  me 
an  Emperor's  daughter — I  will  be  an  Emperor's  consort." 

And  she  laughed  wantonly. 

The  guards  advanced  timidly  with  visible  awe.  Melis- 
selda's  swiftly  flashing  face  changed  suddenly.  She  drew 
him  to  her  breast. 

"My  King  !"  she  murmured.  " 'Twas  cruel  to  tempt 
my  faith  thus."  Then  releasing  him,  she  cried,  "  Go  to 
thy  Kingdom." 

He  drew  himself  up  ;  the  fire  in  her  eyes  flashed  into 
his  own. 

"  The  Sultan  summons  thee,"  said  one  of  the  guards 
reverently. 

183 


THE    TUEKISH    MESSIAH 

''I  am  reiidy,"  he  said,  calmly  adjusting  the  folds  of  his 
black  mantle. 

Melisselda  was  left  alone.  The  slow  moments  wore  on, 
tense  and  terrible.  Little  by  little  the  radiant  faith  died 
out  of  her  face.  Half  an  hour  went  by,  and  cold  serpents 
of  doubt  began  to  coil  about  her  own  heart. 

What  if  Sabbatai  were  only  a  man  after  all  ?  With 
frenzied  rapidity  she  reviewed  the  past ;  now  she  glowed 
Avitli  effulgent  assurances  of  his  divinity,  the  homage  of  his 
people,  the  awe  of  Turk  and  Christian,  Rabbis  and  sages  at 
his  feet,  the  rich  and  the  great  struggling  to  kiss  his  fan, 
the  treasures  poured  into  his  unwilling  palms  ;  now  she 
shivered  with  hideous  suggestions  and  remembrances  of 
frailty  and  mortal  ineptitude.  And  as  her  faith  falter- 
ed, as  the  exaltation,  with  which  she  had  inspired  him, 
ebbed  away,  alarm  for  his  safety  began  to  creep  into  her 
soul,  till  at  last  it  was  as  a  flood  sweeping  her  in  his  traces. 
And  the  more  her  fears  swelled  the  more  she  realized  how 
much  she  had  grown  to  love  him,  with  his  sad,  dark, 
smooth-skinned  beauty,  the  soft,  almost  magnetic  touch  of 
his  hand.  Messiah  or  man,  she  loved  him  :  he  was  right. 
What  if  she  had  sent  him  to  his  death  !  A  cold,  sick  hor- 
ror crept  about  her  limbs.  Perhaps  he  had  dared  to  put 
his  divinity  to  the  test,  and  the  ribald  Turk  was  even  now 
gloating  over  the  screams  of  the  wretched  self  -  deluded 
man.  Oh,  fool  that  she  had  been  to  drive  him  to  the  stake 
and  the  fiery  scourge.  If  divine,  then  to  turn  Turk  were 
part  of  the  plan  of  Salvation  ;  if  human,  he  would  at  least 
be  spared  an  agonized  death.  The  bloody  visions  of  her 
childhood  came  back  to  her,  fire  coursed  in  her  fevered 
veins.  She  snatched  up  a  mantilla  and  threw  it  over  her 
shoulders,  then  dashed  from  the  chamber.  Her  houri-likc 
beauty  in  that  palace  of  hidden  moon-faces,  her  breathless 
explanation  that  the  Sultan  had  summoned  her  to  join  her 

188 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

husband,  carried  her  past  breathless  guards,  through  door 
after  door,  past  the  bhxck  eunuclis  of  the  seraglio  and  the 
Avhite  eunuchs  of  the  royal  apartment,  till  through  the  in- 
terstices of  purple  hangings  she  had  a  far-off  glimpse  of 
the  despot  in  his  great  imperial  turban,  sitting  on  his 
high,  narrow  throne,  his  officers  around  him.  A  page 
stopped  her  rudely.     Faintness  overcame  her. 

"  Mehmed  Effendi,"  called  the  page. 

Dizzy,  her  tongue  scarcely  under  control,  she  tried  to 
proffer  to  the  tall  door-keeper  who  parted  the  hangings  her 
request  for  admission.  But  he  held  out  his  arms  to  catch 
her  swaying  form,  and  then,  as  in  some  monstrous  dream, 
something  familiar  seemed  to  her  to  waft  from  the  figure, 
despite  the  white  turban  and  the  green  mantle,  and  the  next 
instant,  as  with  the  pain  of  a  stab,  she  recognized  Sabbatai". 

"  What  masquerade  is  this  ?"  her  white  lips  whispered 
in  iiulignant  revulsion  as  she  struggled  from  his  hold. 

"  My  lord,  the  Sultan,  hath  made  me  his  door-keeper — 
Capigi  Bashi  Otorah,'"  he  replied  deprecatingly.  ''He  is 
merciful  and  forgiving.  May  Allah  exalt  his  dominion. 
The  salary  is  large  ;  he  is  a  generous  paymaster.  I  testify 
that  there  is  no  God  but  God.  I  testify  that  Mohammed 
is  God's  prophet."  He  caught  the  swooning  Melisselda  in 
his  arms  and  covered  her  face  with  kisses. 


XXV 

NE\ys  travelled  slowly  in  those  days.  A  week  later,  while 
Agi  Mehmed  Effendi  and  his  wife  Fauma  Kadin  (born 
Sarah  and  still  called  Melisselda  by  her  adoring  husband, 
the  Sultan's  door-keejier)  were  receiving  instruction  in  the 
Moslem  religion  from  the  exultant  Mufti  Vanni,  a  great 
Synod  of  Jews,  swept  to  Amsterdam  by  the  mighty  wave 

184 


THE    TURKISH    MESSIAH 

of  faith  and  jo}',  Rabbis  and  scholars  and  presidents  of  col- 
leges, were  drawing  up  a  letter  of  homage  to  the  Messiah. 
And  Avhile  the  Grand  Seignior  was  meditating  the  annihi- 
lation of  all  the  Jews  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  for  their 
rebellious  projects,  with  the  forced  conversion  of  the  or- 
phaned children  to  Islam,  the  Jews  of  the  world  were  cele- 
brating— for  what  they  thought  the  last  time — the  Day  of 
Atonement,  and  five  times  during  that  long  fast -day  did 
the  weeping  worshippers,  rocking  to  and  fro  in  their  grave- 
clothes,  passionately  pronounce  the  blessing  over  Sabbatai 
Zevi,  the  Messiah  of  Israel. 

Nor  did  the  fame  and  memory  of  him  perish  for  ge-ne^'a- 
tions  ;  nor  the  dreamers  of  the  Jewry  cease  to  cherish  t»he 
faith  in  him,  many  following  him  in  adopting  the  white 
turban  of  Islam. 

But  by  what  ingenious  cabalistic  sophistries,  by  what 
yearning  fantasies — fit  to  make  the  angels  weep — his  un- 
happy followers,  obstinate  not  to  lose  the  great  white  hope 
that  had  come  to  illumine  the  gloom  of  the  Jewries,  ex- 
plained away  his  defection ;  Avhat  sects  and  counter-sects 
his  appostasy  gave  birth  to,  and  what  new  j^rophets  arose — 
a  guitar-playing  gallant  of  Madrid,  a  tobacco  dealer  of  Pig- 
nerol,  a  blue-blooded  Christian  millionaire  of  Copenhagen 
— to  nourish  that  great  pathetic  hope  (which  still  lives  on) 
long  after  Sabbatai  himself,  after  who  knows  what  new 
spasms  of  self -mystification  and  hypocrisy,  what  renewed 
aspirations  after  his  old  greatness  and  his  early  righteous- 
ness, what  fresh  torment  of  soul  and  body,  died  on  the 
Day  of  Atonement,  a  lonely  white-haired  exile  in  a  little 
Albanian  town,  where  no  brother  Jew  dwelt  to  close  his 
eyelids  or  breathe  undying  homage  into  his  dying  ears — is 
it  not  written  in  the  chronicles  of  the  Ghetto  ? 

{Here  ejideth  the  Third  and  Last  Scroll.) 
185 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 


As  the  lean,  dark,  somewhat  stooping  passenger,  notice- 
able among  the  blonde  Hollanders  by  his  noble  Spanish 
face  with  its  black  eyebrows  and  long  curly  locks,  stepped 
off  the  trehschuyt  on  to  the  canal -bank  at  s'  Gravenhage, 
his  abstracted  gaze  did  not  at  first  take  in  the  scowling 
visages  of  the  idlers,  sunning  themselves  as  the  tow-boat 
came  in.  He  was  not  a  close  observer  of  externals,  and 
though  he  had  greatly  enjoyed  the  journey  home  from 
Utrecht  along  the  quaint  water-way  between  green  Avails 
of  trees  and  hedges,  with  occasional  glimpses  of  flat  land- 
scapes and  windmills  through  rifts,  his  sense  of  the  peace 
of  Nature  was  wafted  from  the  mass,  from  a  pervasive 
background  of  greenness  and  flowing  water ;  he  Avas  not 
keenly  aware  of  specific  trees,  of  linden,  or  elm,  or  willow,, 
still  less  of  the  aquatic  plants  and  flowers  that  carpeted 
richly  the  surface  of  the  canal. 

Even  when,  pursuing  broodingly  his  homeward  path 
through  the  handsome  streets  of  the  Hague,  he  became  at 
last  conscious  of  a  certain  ill-will  in  the  faces  he  met,  he 
did  not  at  first  connect  it  with  himself,  but  with  the  general 
bellicose  excitement  of  the  populace.  Although  the  young 
Prince  of  Orange  had  rewarded  their  insurrectionary  elec- 
tion of  him  to  the  Stadtholdership  by  redeeming  them  from 
the  despair  to  which  the  French  invasion  and  the  English  fleet 

18G 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

had  redncod  them,  although  since  his  famons  "  I  will  die  in 
the  last  ditch/'  Holland  no  longer  strove  to  commit  suicide 
by  opening  its  own  sluices,  yet  the  unloosed  floods  of  pop- 
ular passion  were  only  partially  abated.  A  stone  that 
grazed  his  cheek  and  plumped  against  the  little  hand-bag 
that  held  his  all  of  luggage,  startled  him  to  semi-compre- 
hension. 

They  were  for  him,  then,  these  sullen  glances.  Cries 
of  "Traitor!"  "Godless  gallows-bird!"  "Down  with  the 
damned  renegade  !"  disjoelled  what  doubt  remained.  A 
shade  of  melancholy  deepened  the  expression  of  the  sweet, 
thoughtful  mouth  ;  then,  as  by  volition,  the  habitual  look 
of  pensive  cheerfulness  came  back,  and  he  walked  on,  un- 
ruffled. 

So  it  had  leaked  out,  even  in  his  own  town — where  an 
anonymous  prophet  should  be  without  dishonor — that  he 
was  the  author  of  the  infamous  Tractatus  Tlieologico-Polit- 
icus,  the  "traitor  to  State  and  Church"  of  refuting  pam- 
phleteers, the  bogey  of  popular  theology.  In  vain,  then,  had 
his  treatise  been  issued  with  "  Hamburg"  on  the  title-page. 
In  vain  had  he  tried  to  combine  personal  peace  with  im- 
personal thought,  to  confine  his  body  to  a  garret  and  to 
diffuse  his  soul  through  the  world.  The  forger  of  such  a 
thunderbolt  could  not  remain  hid  from  the  eyes  of  Europe. 
Perhaps  the  illustrious  foreigners  and  the  beautiful  blue- 
stockings who  climbed  his  stairs — to  the  detriment  of  his 
day's  work  in  grinding  lenses — had  set  the  Hague  scenting 
sulphur.  More  probably  the  hot-headed  young  disciples  to 
whom  he  had  given  oral  or  epistolary  teaching  had  enthu- 
siastically betrayed  him  into  fame — or  infamy.  It  had  al- 
ways been  thus,  he  mused,  even  in  those  early  half-forgot- 
ten days  when  he  was  emancii)ating  himself  from  the 
Glietto,  and  half -shocked  admirers  no  less  than  heresy- 
hunters  bore  to  the  ears  of  the  Beth-din  his  dreadful  re- 

187 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

jection  of  miracle  and  ceremony.  Poor  Saul  Morteira  ! 
How  his  ancient  master  must  have  been  pained  to  pro- 
nounce the  Great  Ban,  though  nothing  should  have  sur- 
prised him  in  a  pupil  so  daring  of  question,  even  at  fifteen. 
And  now  that  he  had  shaken  olf  the  Ghetto,  or  rather  been 
shaken  off  by  it,  he  had  scandalized  no  less  shockingly 
that  Christendom  to  which  the  Ghetto  had  imagined  him 
apostatizing :  he  had  fearlessly  contradicted  every  system 
of  the  century,  the  ruling  Cartesian  philosophy  no  less  than 
the  creed  of  the  Church,  and  his  plea  for  freedom  of  thought 
had  illustrated  it  to  the  full.  True,  the  Low  Countries, 
when  freed  from  the  Spanisli  rack,  had  nobly  declared  for 
religious  freedom,  but  at  a  scientific  treatment  of  the  Bible 
as  sacred  literature  even  Dutch  toleration  must  draw  the 
line,  unbeguiled  by  the  appeal  to  the  State  to  found  it- 
self on  true  religion  and  ignore  the  glossing  theologians. 
"  What  evil  can  be  imagined  greater  for  a  State  than  that 
honorable  men,  because  they  have  thoughts  of  their  own 
and  cannot  act  a  lie,  are  sent  as  culprits  into  exile  or  led 
to  the  scaffold  ?"  Already  the  States-General  had  attached 
the  work  containing  this  question  and  forbidden  its  circu- 
lation :  now  apparently  persecution  was  to  reach  him  in 
person,  Christendom  supplementing  what  he  had  long  since 
suffered  from  the  Jewry.  He  thought  of  the  fanatical  Jew 
whose  attempt  to  stab  him  had  driven  him  to  live  on  the 
outskirts  of  Amsterdam  even  before  the  Jews  had  per- 
suaded the  civil  magistrates  to  banish  him  from  their 
"  new  Jerusalem,"  and  in  a  flash  of  bitterness  the  picturesque 
Portuguese  imprecations  of  the  Rabbinic  tribunal  seemed 
to  him  to  be  bearing  fruit,  ''According  to  the  decision  of 
the  angels  and  the  judgment  of  the  saints,  with  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  Holy  God  and  the  whole  congregation,  we  excom- 
municate, expel,  curse,  and  execrate  Baruch  de  Espinoza 
before  the  holy  books.   .   .  .     Cursed  be  he  by  day,  and 

188 


THE    MAKEE    OF    LENSES 

cursed  be  he  by  night ;  cursed  be  he  when  he  lieth  down, 
and  cursed  be  he  when  he  riseth  up ;  cursed  be  he  when 
he  goeth  out,  and  cursed  be  he  when  he  cometh  in.  May 
God  never  forgive  him  !  His  auger  and  His  passion  shall 
be  kindled  against  this  man,  on  whom  rest  all  the  curses 
and  execrations  which  are  written  in  the  Holy  Script- 
ures. .  .  ."  Had  the  words  been  lurking  at  the  back  of  his 
mind,  when  he  was  writing  the  Tractatus?  he  asked  him- 
self, troubled  to  find  them  still  in  his  memory.  Had  re- 
sentment colored  the  Jewish  sections  ?  Had  his  hot  Span- 
ish blood  kept  the  memory  of  the  dagger  that  had  tried  to 
spill  it  ?  Had  suffering  biassed  the  impersonality  of  his 
intellect  ?  "This  compels  me  to  nothing  which  I  should 
not  otherwise  have  done,"  he  had  said  to  his  Mennonite 
friend  when  the  sentence  reached  him  in  the  Oudekirk 
Eoad.  But  was  it  so  ?  If  he  had  not  been  cut  off  from 
his  father  and  his  brothers  and  sisters,  and  the  friends  of 
childhood,  would  he  have  treated  the  beauties  of  his  an- 
cestral faith  with  so  grudging  a  sympathy  ?  The  doubt  dis- 
turbed him,  revealing  once  more  liow  difficult  Avas  self- 
mastery,  absolute  surrender  to  absolute  Truth.  Never 
had  he  wavered  under  persecution  like  Uriel  Acosta  —  at 
whose  grave  in  unholy  ground  he  had  stood  when  a  boy  of 
eight, — but  had  it  not  wrought  insidiously  upon  his  spirit  ? 
''Alas!"  thought  he,  "the  heaviest  burden  that  men 
can  lay  upon  us,  is  not  that  they  persecute  us  with  their 
hatred  and  scorn,  but  that  they  thus  plant  hatred  and 
scorn  in  our  souls.  That  is  what  does  not  let  us  breathe 
freely  or  see  clearly."  Eetrospect  softened  the  odiousness 
of  his  Jewish  persecutors :  they  were  but  children  of  a 
persecuting  age,  and  it  was  indeed  hard  for  a  community 
of  refugees  from  Spain  and  Portugal  to  have  that  faith 
doubted  for  which  they  or  their  fathers  had  given  up 
wealth  and  country.     Even  at  the  liour  of  his  Ban  the 

189 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

pyres  of  the  Inquisition  were  flaming  with  Jewish  martyrs, 
and  his  fellow-scholars  were  writing  Latin  verses  to  their 
sacred  memories.  And  should  the  religion  which  exacted 
and  stimulated  such  sacrifices  be  set  aside  by  one  jirovi- 
dentially  free  to  profess  it  ?  How  should  they  understand 
that  a  martyr's  death  proved  faith,  not  truth  ?  Well,  well, 
if  he  had  not  sufficiently  repaid  his  brethren's  hatred  with 
love,  it  was  no  good  being  sorry,  for  sorrow  was  an  evil,  a 
passing  to  lesser  perfection,  diminished  vitality.  Let  him 
rather  rejoice  that  the  real  work  of  his  life — his  Ethica, 
which  he  was  working  out  on  j^ure  geometrical  principles 
— would  have  no  taint  of  personality,  would  be  without 
his  name,  and  would  not  even  be  published  till  death  had 
removed  the  last  possibility  of  personal  interest  in  its 
fortunes.  *Tor,"  as  he  Avas  teaching  in  the  book  itself, 
"those  who  desire  to  aid  others  by  counsel  or  deed  to 
the  common  enjoyment  of  the  chief  good  shall  in  no 
wise  endeavor  themselves  that  a  doctrine  be  called  after 
them." 

Another  stone  and  a  hoot  of  derision  from  a  gang  of 
roughs  reminded  him  that  death  might  not  wait  for  the 
finishing  of  his  work.  '*  Strange,"  he  reflected,  "  that  they 
who  cannot  even  read  should  so  run  to  damn."  And  then 
his  thoughts  recurred  to  that  horrible  day  not  a  year  ago 
when  the  brutal  mob  had  torn  to  pieces  the  noblest  men 
in  the  realm — his  friends,  the  brothers  De  AVitt.  He  could 
scarcely  retain  his  tears  even  now  at  the  memory  of  the 
martyred  patriots,  whose  ignominiously  gibbeted  bodies  the 
police  had  only  dared  remove  in  the  secrecy  of  the  small 
hours.  It  was  hard  even  for  the  philosopher  to  remember 
that  the  brutes  did  but  express  the  essence  of  their  being, 
even  us  he  expressed  his.  Nevertheless  Reason  did  not 
demand  that  theirs  should  destroy  his  :  tlie  reverse  sooner, 
had  he  the  power.     So,  turning  the  corner  of  the  street, 

190 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

he  slipped  into  his  favorite  book  -  shop  in  the  Spnistraat 
and  sought  at  once  safety  and  delectation  among  the  old 
folios  and  the  new  Latin  publications  and  the  beautiful 
productions  of  the  Elzevirs  of  Amsterdam. 

"  Hast  thou  Stoupe's  Religion  des  Hollandoisf"  he  asked, 
with  a  sudden  thought. 

''Inquire  elsewhere,"  snapped  the  bookseller  surlily. 

'' Et  tu,  Bride V  said  Spinozn,  smiling.  "Dost  thou 
also  join  the  hue  and  cry  ?  Methinks  heresy  should  nour- 
ish thy  trade.  A  wilderness  of  counterblasts,  treatises, 
tractlets,  pasquinades — the  more  the  merrier,  eh  T' 

The  bookseller  stared.  "  Thou  to  come  in  and  ask  for 
Stoupe's  book  ?     'Tis — 'tis — brazen  !" 

Spinoza  was  perplexed.  "  Brazen  ?  Is  it  because  he  talks 
of  me  in  it  ?" 

"  Heer  Spinoza,"  said  the  bookseller  solemnly,  "  thy 
Cartesian  commentary  has  brought  me  a  many  pence,  and 
if  thou  thyself  hast  browsed  more  than  bought,  thou  wast 
welcome  to  take  whatever  thou  couldst  carry  away  in  that 
long  head  of  thine.  But  to  serve  thee  now  is  more  than  I 
dare,  with  the  populace  so  wrought  up  against  thee. 
What !  Didst  thou  think  thy  doings  in  Utrecht  would 
not  penetrate  hither  ?" 

**  My  doings  in  Utrecht  I" 

"  Ay,  in  the  enemy's  headquarters — betraying  us  to  the 
periwigs  I" 

Spinoza  was  taken  aback.  This  was  even  more  serious 
than  he  had  thouglit.  It  was  for  supposed  leaning  to  the 
French  that  the  De  Witts  had  been  massacred.  Political 
odium  was  even  more  sinister  than  theological.  Perhaps 
he  had  been  unwise  to  accept  in  Avar -time  the  Prince  of 
Conde's  flattering  invitation  to  talk  philosophy.  To  get  to 
the  French  camp  with  the  Marshal's  safe-conduct  had  been 
easy  enough  :  to  get  back  to  his  own  headquarters  bade  fair 

191 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

to  be  another  matter.  But  then  Avhy  had  the  Dutch  au- 
thorities permitted  him  to  go  ?  Surely  such  unique  confi- 
dence was  testimonial  enough. 

"Oh,  but  this  is  absurd  !"  he  said.  "Every  burgher  in 
Den  Haag  knows  that  I  am  a  good  republican,  and  have 
never  had  any  aim  but  the  honor  and  welfai'e  of  the  State. 
Besides,  I  did  not  even  see  Conde.  He  had  been  called 
away,  and  I  would  not  wait  his  return." 

"Ay,  but  thou  didst  see  Luxemburg;  thou  wast  enter- 
tained by  Colonel  Stoupe,  of  the  Swiss  regiment." 

"  True,  but  he  is  theologian  as  well  as  soldier." 

"  He  did  not  offer  to  bribe  thee  ?" 

"Ay,  he  did,"  said  Spinoza,  smiling.  "He  offered  me 
a  pension — " 

The  bookseller  plugged  his  ears.  "'Sh  !  I  will  not 
know.     I'll  have  no  hand  in  thy  murder." 

"Nay,  but  it  will  interest  thee  as  a  bookseller.  The 
pension  was  to  be  given  me  by  his  royal  master  if  I  would 
dedicate  a  book  to  his  august  majesty." 

"And  thou  refusedst  ?" 

"Naturally.     Louis  Quatorze  has  flatterers  enough." 

The  bookseller  seized  his  hands  and  wrung  them  with 
tears.  "I  told  them  so,  I  told  them  so.  What  if  they  did 
see  these  French  gentry  visiting  thee  ?  Political  emissa- 
ries forsooth  !  As  well  fear  for  the  virtue  of  the  ladies 
of  quality  who  toil  up  his  stairs,  quoth  I.  They  do  but 
seek  further  explications  of  their  Descartes.  Ah,  France 
may  have  begotten  a  philosopher,  but  it  requires  Holland 
to  shelter  him,  a  Dutchman  to  understand  him.  That 
musked  gallant  a  spy  !  AVhy,  that  was  D'Henault,  the 
poet.  How  do  I  know  ?  Well,  when  a  man  inquires  for 
D'Henault's  poems  and  is  half-pleased  because  I  have  the 
book,  and  half-annoyed  because  he  must  needs  buy  it — ! 
An  epicurean   rogue  by  his  lip,  a  true  son  of  the  Muses. 

192 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

And  suppose  there  is  a  letter  from  England,  quoth  I,  with 
the  seal  of  the  Royal  Society  !" 

"  Is  there  a  letter  from  England  ?" 

"Thou  hast  not  been  to  thy  lodging  ?  That  Royal  So- 
ciety, quoth  I,  is  a  learned  body — despite  its  name  —  and 
hath  naught  to  do  with  King  Charles  and  the  company  he 
keeps.    Tis  they  who  egg  him  on  to  fight  us,  the  hussies  I" 

Spinoza  smiled.  "  It  must  be  from  my  good  friend 
Oldenburg,  the  secretary." 

"'Tis  what  I  told  them.  He  was  in  my  shop  when  he 
was  here — " 

"  Asking  for  his  book  ?" 

"  Nay,  for  thine."  And  the  booksellers  smile  answered 
Spinoza's.  "  He  bade  me  despatch  copies  of  the  Principia 
PldldsopMae  Cartesianae  to  sundry  persons  of  distinction. 
I  would  to  Heaven  thou  wouldst  write  a  new  book  !" 

"Heaven  may  not  share  thy  view,"  murmured  Spinoza, 
who  was  Just  turning  over  the  pages  of  an  attack  on  his 
"new  book,"  and  reading  of  himself  as  "a  man  of  bold 
countenance,  fanatical,  and  estranged  from  all  religion." 

"A  good  book  thou  hast  there,"  said  the  bookseller. 
"By  Musaeus,  the  Jena  Professor.  The  Tradatus  Tlieo- 
logico-Politicus  ad  Veritatis  Lancem  Examinatus — weighed 
in  Truth's  balance,  indeed.  A  title  that  draws.  They 
say  'tis  the  best  of  all  the  refutations  of  the  pernicious  and 
poisonous  Tractate." 

"Of  which  I  see  sundry  copies  here  masked  in  false 
titles." 

"'Sh  !  Forbidden  fruit  is  always  in  demand.  But  so 
long  as  I  supply  the  antidote  too — " 

"  Needs  fruit  an  antidote  ?" 

"  Poisoned  apples  of  Knowledge  offered  by  the  serpent." 

"  A  serpent  indeed,"  said  Spinoza,  reading  the  Antidote 
aloud.  "  'He  has  left  no  mental  faculty,  no  cunning,  no 
N  193 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

art  untried  in  order  to  conceal  his  fabrication  beneath  a 
brilliant  veil,  so  that  we  may  with  good  reason  doubt 
whether  among  the  great  number  of  those  whom  the  devil 
himself  has  hired  for  the  destruction  of  all  human  and  di- 
vine right,  there  is  one  to  be  found  who  has  been  more 
zealous  in  the  work  of  corruption  than  this  traitor  who  was 
born  to  the  great  injury  of  the  church  and  to  tlie  harm  of 
the  state/  How  he  bruises  the  serpent's  head,  this  theology 
professor  !"  he  cried  ;  "  how  he  lays  him  dead  on  his  bal- 
ance of  Truth  I"  To  himself  he  thought :  "  How  the  most 
ignorant  are  usually  the  most  imjmdent  and  the  most 
ready  to  rush  into  print !"  He  had  a  faint  prevision  of 
how  his  name  —  should  it  really  leak  out,  despite  all  his 
precautions — would  come  to  stand  for  atheism  and  im- 
morality, a  catchword  of  ill  -  omen  for  a  century  or'  two  ; 
but  he  smiled  on,  relying  upon  the  inherent  reasonableness 
and  rightness  of  the  universe. 

"  Wilt  take  the  book  ?"  said  the  bookseller. 

*'Nay,  'tis  not  by  such  tirades  that  Truth  is  advanced. 
But  hast  thou  the  Refutation  by  Lambert  Velthuysen  ?" 

The  bookseller  shook  his  head. 

"  That  is  worth  a  hundred  of  this.  Prithee  get  that  and 
commend  it  to  thy  clients,  for  Velthuysen  wields  a  formida- 
ble dialectic  by  wliicli  men's  minds  may  be  veritably  stimu- 
lated." 

On  his  homeward  way  dark  looks  still  met  him,  but  he 
faced  them  with  cheerful,  candid  gaze.  At  the  end  of  the 
narrow  Sjiuistraat  the  affairs  of  the  broad  market-place  en- 
grossed popular  attention,  and  the  philosopher  threaded 
his  way  unregarded  among  the  stalls  and  the  canvas-cov- 
ered Zeeland  waggons,  and  it  was  not  till  he  reached  the 
Paviljoensgracht  —  where  he  now  sits  securely  in  stone, 
pencilling  a  thought  as  enduring  —  that  ho  encountered 
fresh  difficulty.     There,  at  his  own  street  door,  under  the 

194 


THE    MAKEE    OF    LENSES 

trees  lining  the  canal-bank,  his  landlord,  Van  der  Spijck, 
the  painter  —  usually  a  phlegmatic  figure  haloed  in  pipe- 
clouds —  congratulated  him  excitedly  on  his  safe  return, 
but  refused  him  entry  to  the  house.  "  Here  thou  canst 
lodge  no  more." 

"  Here  I  lodge  to-night,"  said  Spinoza  quietly,  ''if  there 
be  any  law  in  Holland." 

"Law!  The  folk  will  take  the  law  into  their  own 
hands.  My  windows  will  be  broken,  my  doors  battered 
in.  And  thou  wilt  be  murdered,  and  thrown  into  the 
canal." 

His  lodger  laughed.  ''  And  wherefore  ?  An  honest  op- 
tician murdered  !     Go  to,  good  friend  !" 

''  If  thou  hadst  but  sat  at  home,  polishing  thy  spy-glass- 
es instead  of  faring  to  Utrecht !  Customarily  thou  art  so 
cloistered  in  that  the  goodwife  declares  thou  forgettest  to 
eat  for  three  days  together — and  certes  there  is  little  thou 
canst  eat  when  thou  goest  not  abroad  to  buy  provision ! 
AVhat  devil  must  drive  thee  on  a  long  journey  in  this  hour 
of  heat  and  ferment  ?  Not  that  I  believe  a  word  of  thy 
turning  traitor  —  I'd  sooner  believe  my  mahl- stick  could 
turn  serpent  like  Aaron's  rod — but  in  my  house  thou  shalt 
not  be  murdered." 

"  Eeassure  thyself.  The  whole  town  knows  my  business 
with  Stoupe  ;  at  least  I  told  my  bookseller,  and  'tis  only  a 
matter  of  hours." 

"  Truly  he  is  a  lively  gossip." 

"Ay,"  said  Spinoza  drily.  "He  was  even  aware  that  a 
letter  from  the  lloyal  Society  of  England  awaits  me." 

Van  der  Spijck  reddened.  "  I  have  not  opened  it,"  he 
cried  hastily. 

"Naturally.     But  the  door  thou  mayst  open." 

The  painter  hesitated.  "  They  will  drag  thee  forth,  as 
they  dragged  the  De  Witts  from  the  prison." 

195 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Spinoza  smiled  sadly.  "  And  on  that  occasion  tlioii 
wouldst  not  let  me  out ;  now  thou  wilt  not  let  me  in." 

''Both  proofs  that  I  have  more  regard  for  thee  than  thou 
for  thyself.  If  I  had  let  thee  dash  out  to  fix  up  on  the 
public  wall  that  denunciation  thou  hadst  written  of  the 
barbarian  mob,  there  had  been  no  life  of  thine  to  risk  to- 
day. Fly  the  town,  I  beseech  thee,  or  find  thicker  walls 
than  mine.  Thou  knowest  I  would  shelter  thee  had  I  the 
power  ;  do  not  our  other  lodgers  turn  to  thee  in  sickness 
and  sorrow  to  be  soothed  by  thy  talk  ?  Do  not  our  own 
little  ones  love  and  obey  thee  more  than  their  mother  and 
me  ?  But  if  thou  wert  murdered  in  our  house,  how  dread- 
ful a  shock  and  a  memory  to  ns  all  !" 

"  I  know  well  your  love  for  me,''  said  Spinoza,  touched. 
"  But  fear  nothing  on  my  account :  I  can  easily  justify  my- 
self. There  are  people  enough,  and  of  chief  men  in  the 
country  too,  Avho  well  know  the  motives  of  my  journey. 
But  whatever  comes  of  it,  so  soon  as  the  crowd  nuike  the 
least  noise  at  your  door,  I  will  go  out  and  make  straight 
for  them,  though  they  should  serve  me  as  they  have  done 
the  unhappy  De  Witts." 

Van  der  Spijck  threw  open  the  door.  ''  Thy  word  is  an 
oath  I" 

On  the  stairs  shone  the  speckless  landlady,  a  cheerful 
creature  in  black  cap  and  white  apron,  her  bodice  laced 
with  ornamental  green  and  red  ribbons.  She  gave  a  cry  of 
joy,  and  flew  to  meet  him,  broom  in  hand.  "AVelcome 
home.  Hear  Spinoza  !  How  glad  the  little  ones  will  be 
when  they  get  back  from  school !  There's  a  pack  of  knaves 
been  slandering  thee  right  and  left  ;  some  of  them  tried  to 
pump  Henri,  but  we  sent  them  away  with  fleas  in  their  ears 
—eh,  Henri  ?" 

Henri  smiled  sheepishly. 

"  Most  pertinacious  of  all  was  a  party  of  three  —  an  old 

196 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

man  and  his  daughter  and  a  young  man.  They  came  twice, 
very  vexed  to  find  thee  away,  and  feigning  to  be  old  friends 
of  thine  from  Amsterdam  ;  at  least  not  the  young  man — 
his  lament  was  to  miss  the  celebrated  scholar  he  had  been 
taken  to  see.  A  bushel  of  questions  they  asked,  but  not 
many  pecks  did  they  get  out  of  me." 

A  flush  had  mantled  upon  Spinoza's  olive  cheek.  ''Did 
they  give  any  name  ?"  he  asked  with  unusual  eagerness. 

"  It  ends  in  Ende — that  stuck  in  my  memory." 

"  Van  den  Ende  ?" 

*'  Or  such  like." 

"  The  daughter  was— beautiful  ?" 

"  A  goddess  !"  put  in  the  painter. 

"  Humph  !"  said  the  vrouw.  "  Give  me  the  young  man. 
A  cold  marble  creature  is  not  my  idea  of  a  goddess." 

"  'Tis  a  Greek  goddess,"  said  Spinoza  with  labored  light- 
ness. "  They  are  indeed  old  friends  of  mine  —  saving  the 
young  man,  who  is  doubtless  a  pupil  of  the  old.  He  is  a 
very  learned  philologist,  this  Dr.  van  den  Ende :  he  taught 
me  Latin — " 

"  And  Greek  goddesses,"  flashed  the  vrouw  affection- 
ately. 

Spinoza  tried  to  say  something,  but  fell  a-coughing  in- 
stead, and  began  to  ascend  to  his  room.  He  was  agitated : 
and  it  was  his  principle  to  quit  society  whenever  his  emo- 
tions threatened  to  exceed  philosophical  moderation. 

"  Wait !  I  have  thy  key,"  cried  the  goodwife,  pursuing 
him.  "And  oh!  what  dust  in  thy  room!  No  wonder 
thou  art  troubled  with  a  phthisis  !" 

"  Thou  didst  not  arrange  anything  ?"  he  cried  in  alarm. 

''A  flick  with  a  feather-brush,  as  I  took  in  thy  letters — 
no  more  ;  my  hand  itched  to  be  at  thy  papers,  but  see  !  not 
one  is  in  order  !" 

She  unlocked  his  door,  revealing  a  little  room  in  which 

197 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

books  and  papers  mingled  oddly  with  the  bedroom  furni- 
ture and  the  tools  and  bench  of  his  craft.  There  were  two 
windows  with  shabby  red  curtains.  On  nails  hung  a  few 
odd  garments,  one  of  which,  the  doublet  anciently  pierced 
by  the  fanatic's  dagger,  merely  served  as  a  memento, 
though  not  visibly  older  than  the  rest  of  his  wardrobe. 
"  Who  puts  a  mediocre  article  into  a  costly  envelope  ?'' 
was  the  philosoplier's  sartorial  standpoint.  Over  the  man- 
tel (on  Avhich  among  some  old  pipes  lay  two  silver  buckles, 
his  only  jewellery)  was  pinned  a  charcoal  sketch  of  Ma- 
saniello  in  shirt-sleeves,  with  a  net  on  his  sliouidcr,  done  by 
Spinoza  himself,  and  obviously  with  his  own  features  as 
model  :  perhaps  in  some  whimsical  moment  when  he  fig- 
ured himself  as  an  intellectual  revolutionary.  A  portfolio 
that  leaned  against  a  microscope  contained  black  and  white 
studies  of  some  of  his  illustrious  visitors,  which  caught 
happily  their  essential  features  without  detail.  The  few 
other  wall-pictures  were  engravings  by  other  hands.  Spi- 
noza sat  down  on  his  truckle-bed  with  a  great  sigh  of 
content. 

"  Desiderrdoque  ncquiescimns  lecfo^"  he  murmured.  Then 
his  eye  roving  around  :  "My  spiders'  webs  are  gone  !"  he 
groaned. 

"  I  could  not  disarrange  aught  in  sweeping  tJmii  away  !" 
deprecated  the  goodwife. 

"  Thou  hast  disarranged  ine  !  I  have  learnt  all  my  wis- 
dom from  watching  spiders  !"  he  said,  smiling. 

*'Nay,  thou  jestest." 

"  In  no  wise.  The  spider  and  the  fly — the  whole  of  life 
is  there.  'Tis  through  leaving  them  out  that  the  theologies 
are  so  empty.  Besides,  who  will  now  catch  the  flies  for  my 
microscope  ?" 

"  I  will  not  believe  thou  wouldst  have  the  poor  little  flies 
caught  by  the  great  big  spiders.     Never  did  I  understand 

198 


THE    MAKEE    OF    LENSES 

what  Pastor  Cordes  prated  of  turning  the  other  cheek  till  I 
met  thee." 

"  Nay,  'tis  not  my  doctrine.  Mine  is  the  worship  of  joy. 
I  liold  that  the  effort  to  preserve  our  being  is  virtue." 

"  But  thou  goest  to  church  sometimes  ?" 

*'To  hear  a  preacher." 

"  A  strange  motive."  She  added  musingly  :  "  Chris- 
tianity is  not  then  true  ?" 

"Not  true  for  me." 

"  Then  if  thou  canst  not  believe  in  it,  I  will  not." 

Spinoza  smiled  tenderly.  "Be  guided  by  Dr.  Cordes, 
not  by  me." 

The  goodwife  was  puzzled.  "  Dost  thou  then  think  I 
can  be  saved  in  Dr.  Cordes'  doctrine  ?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"Yes, 'tis  a  very  good  doctrine,  the  Lutheran;  doubt 
not  thou  wilt  be  saved  in  it,  provided  thou  livest  at  peace 
with  thy  neighbors." 

Her  face  brightened.     "  Then  I  will  be  guided  by  thee." 

Spinoza  smiled.  Theology  demanded  perfect  obedience, 
he  thought,  even  as  philosophy  demanded  perfect  knowl- 
edge, and  both  alike  were  saving ;  for  the  believing  mob, 
therefore,  to  which  Religion  meant  subversion  of  Reason, 
speculative  opinions  were  to  be  accounted  pious  or  impious, 
not  as  they  were  true  or  false,  but  as  they  confirmed  or 
shook  the  believer's  obedience. 

Refusing  her  solicitous  offers  of  a  warm  meal,  and  merely 
begging  her  to  buy  him  a  loaf,  he  began  to  read  his  arrears 
of  letters,  picking  them  up  one  after  another  with  no  ea- 
gerness but  with  calm  interest.  His  correspondence  was 
varied.  Some  of  it  was  taken  up  with  criticisms  of  his 
thought — products  of  a  leisurely  age  when  the  thinkers  of 
Europe  were  a  brotherhood,  calling  to  each  other  across  the 
dim  populations ;  some  represented  the  more  deferential 
doubts  of  disciples  or   the  elegant    misunderstandings  of 

199 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

philosophic  dilettanti,  some  his  friendly  intercourse  with 
empirical  physicists  like  Boyle  or  like  Huyghens,  whose 
telescope  had  enlarged  the  philosopher's  universe  and  the 
thinker's  God ;  there  was  an  acknowledgment  of  the  last 
scholium  from  the  young  men's  society  of  Amsterdam — 
"Nil  volentibus  arcluum," — to  which  he  sent  his  Ethica  in 
sections  for  discussion  ;  the  metropolis  which  had  banished 
him  not  being  able  to  keep  out  his  thought.  There  was 
the  usual  demand  for  explanations  of  dijSiculties  from  Bly- 
enberghjthe  Dort  merchant  and  dignitary,  accompanied  this 
time  by  a  frightened  yearning  to  fly  back  from  Reason  to 
Revelation.  And  the  letter  Avith  the  seal  of  the  Royal 
Society  proved  equally  faint-hearted,  Oldenburg  exhorting 
him  not  to  say  anything  in  his  next  book  to  loosen  the 
practice  of  virtue.  "Dear  Heinrich  !"  thought  Spinoza. 
"  How  curious  are  men  !  All  these  years  since  first  we 
met  at  Rijnburg  he  has  been  goading  and  spurring  me  on 
to  give  my  deepest  thought  to  the  world.  'Twas  always, 
'  Cast  out  all  fear  of  stirring  up  against  thee  the  pigmies 
of  the  time — Truth  before  all — let  us  spread  our  sails  to 
the  wind  of  true  Knowledge.'  And  now  the  tune  is,  *0 
pray  be  careful  not  to  give  sinners  a  handle  !'  Well,  well, 
so  I  am  not  to  tell  men  that  the  highest  law  is  self-im- 
posed ;  that  there  is  no  virtue  even  in  virtues  that  do  not 
express  the  essence  of  one's  being.  Oh,  and  I  am  to  be- 
ware particularly  of  telling  them  their  wills  are  not  free, 
and  that  they  only  think  so  because  they  arc  conscious  of 
their  desires,  but  not  of  the  causes  of  them.  I  fear  me 
even  Oldenburg  does  not  understand  that  virtue  follows 
as  necessarily  from  adequate  knowledge  as  from  the  defi- 
nition of  a  triangle  follows  that  its  angles  are  equal  to  two 
right  angles.  I  am,  I  suppose,  also  to  let  men  continue 
to  think  that  the  planetary  system  revolves  round  them, 
and  that  thunders  and  lightnings  wait  upon  their  wrong- 

200 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

doing.  Oldenburg  has  doubtless  been  frighted  by  the  ex- 
travagances of  the  restored  Court.  But  'tis  not  my  teach- 
ings will  corrupt  the  gallants  of  Whitehall.  Those  Avho 
live  best  by  Revelation  through  Tradition  must  cling  to 
it,  but  Revelation  through  Reason  is  the  living  testament 
of  God's  word,  nor  so  liable  as  the  dead  letter  to  be  cor- 
rupted by  human  wickedness.  Strange  that  it  is  thought 
no  crime  to  speak  unworthily  of  the  mind,  the  true  divine 
light,  no  impiety  to  believe  that  God  would  commit  the 
treasure  of  the  true  record  of  Himself  to  any  substance 
less  enduring  than  the  human  heart." 

A  business  letter  made  a  diversion.  It  concerned  the  es- 
tate of  the  deceased  medical  student,  Simon  De  Vries,  a  de- 
voted disciple,  who  knowing  himself  doomed  to  die  young, 
woiild  have  made  the  Master  his  heir,  had  not  Spinoza,  by 
consenting  to  a  small  annual  subsidy,  persuaded  him  to 
leave  his  property  to  his  brother.  The  grateful  heir  now 
proi)osed  to  increase  Spinoza's  allowance  to  five  hundred 
florins. 

"  How  unreasonable  people  are  !"  mused  the  philosopher 
again.  "I  agreed  once  for  all  to  accept  three  hundred, 
and  I  Avill  certainly  not  be  burdened  with  a  stuiver  more." 

His  landlady  here  entered  with  the  loaf,  and  Spinoza, 
having  paid  and  entered  the  sum  in  his  household  account- 
book,  cut  himself  a  slice,  adding  thereto  some  fragments 
of  Dutch  cheese  from  a  package  in  his  hand-bag. 

"Thou  didst  leave  some  wine  in  the  bottle,"  she  re- 
minded him. 

''  Let  it  grow  older,"  he  answered.  "  My  book  shows 
more  than  two  pints  last  month,  and  my  journey  was  cost- 
ly. To  make  both  ends  meet  I  shall  have  to  wriggle,"  he 
added  jestingly,  "like  the  snake  that  tries  to  get  its  tail 
in  its  mouth."  He  cut  open  a  packet,  discovering  that 
a  friend  had  sent  him  some  conserve  of  red  roses  from 

201 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Amsterdam,     "Now  am  I  armed  against  fever,"  he  said 
blithely.     Then,  with  a  remembrance,  "  Pray  take  some . 
up  to  our  poor  Signore.    I  had  forgotten  to  inquire  !'" 

"  Oh,  he  is  out  teaching  again,  thanks  to  thee.  He  hath 
set  up  a  candle  for  thee  in  his  church." 

A  tender  smile  twitched  the  philosopher's  lip,  as  the 
door  closed. 

A  letter  from  Herr  Leibnitz  set  him  wondering  uneasily 
what  had  taken  the  young  German  Crichton  from  Frank- 
fort, and  what  he  was  about  in  Paris.  They  had  had  many 
a  discussion  in  this  little  lodging,  but  he  was  not  yet  sure 
of  the  young  man's  single-mindedness.  The  contents  of 
the  letter  were,  however,  unexpectedly  pleasing.  For  it 
concerned  not  the  philosopher  but  the  Avorking-man.  Even 
his  intimates  could  not  quite  sympathize  Avith  his  obsti- 
nate insistence  on  earning  his  living  by  handicraft — a  man- 
ual activity  by  which  the  excommunicated  Jew  was  brother 
to  the  great  Eabbis  of  the  Talmud  ;  they  could  not  under- 
stand the  satisfaction  of  the  craftsman,  nor  realize  that  to 
turn  out  his  little  lenses  as  perfectly  as  possible  was  as 
essential  a  part  of  his  life  as  that  philosophical  activity 
which  alone  interested  them.  That  his  prowess  as  an 
optician  should  be  invoked  by  Herr  Leibnitz  gave  him  a 
gratification  which  his  fame  as  a  philosopher  could  never 
evoke.  The  only  alloy  was  that  he  could  not  understand 
what  Leibnitz  wanted.  "  That  rays  from  points  outside 
the  optic  axis  may  be  united  exactly  in  the  same  way  as 
those  in  the  optic  axis,  so  that  the  apertures  of  glasses 
may  be  made  of  any  size  desired  Avithout  impairing  dis- 
tinctness of  vision  !"  He  Avrinkled  his  brow  and  fell  to 
making  geometrical  diagrams  on  the  envelope,  but  neither 
his  theoretical  mathematics  nor  his  practical  craftsman- 
ship could  grapple  with  so  obscure  a  request,  and  he  forgot 
to  eat  while  he  pondered.     He  consulted  his  own  treatise 

202 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

on  the  Rainbow,  but  to  no  avail.  At  length  in  despair  he 
took  up  the  last  letter,  to  find  a  greater  surprise  awaiting 
him.  A  communication  from  Professor  Fabritius,  it  bore 
an  offer  from  the  Elector  Palatine  of  a  chair  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Heidelberg.  The  fullest  freedom  in  philosophy 
was  to  be  conceded  him  :  the  only  condition  that  he 
should  not  disturb  the  established  religion. 

His  surprise  passed  rapidly  into  mistrust.  Was  this  an 
attempt  on  the  part  of  Christianity  to  bribe  him  ?  Was  the 
Church  repeating  the  tactics  of  the  Synagogue  ?  It  was 
not  so  many  years  since  the  messengers  of  the  congregation 
had  offered  him  a  pension  of  a  thousand  florins  not  to  dis- 
turb its  "established  religion."  Fullest  freedom  in  philos- 
ophy, forsooth  !  How  was  that  to  be  reconciled  with  im- 
peccable deference  to  the  the  ruling  religion  ?  A  courtier 
like  Descartes  might  start  from  the  standpoint  of  absolute 
doubt  and  end  in  a  pilgrimage  to  Our  Lady  of  Loretto  ; 
but  for  himself,  who  held  miracles  impossible,  and  if  pos- 
si])le  irrelevant,  there  could  be  no  such  compromise  with 
a  creed  whose  very  basis  was  miracle.  True,  there  was  a 
sense  in  which  Christ  might  be  considered  os  i)et  —  the 
mouth  of  God, — but  it  was  not  the  sense  in  which  the 
world  understood  it,  the  world  which  caricatured  all 
great  things,  which  regarded  piety  and  religion,  and  ab- 
solutely all  things  related  to  greatness  of  soul,  as  burdens 
to  be  laid  aside  after  death,  toils  to  be  repaid  by  a  soporific 
beatitude;  which  made  blessedness  the  prize  of  virtue  in- 
stead of  the  synonym  of  virtue.  Nay,  nay,  not  even  the  un- 
expected patronage  of  the  Most  Serene  Carl  Ludwig  could 
reconcile  his  thoughts  with  popular  theology. 

How  curious  these  persistent  attempts  of  friend  and  foe 
alike  to  provide  for  his  livelihood,  and  what  mistaken  rev- 
erence his  persistent  rejections  had  brought  him  !  People 
could  not  lift  their  hands  high  enough  in  admiration  be- 

203 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

cause  he  followed  the  law  of  his  nature,  because  he  pre- 
ferred a  simple  living,  simply  earned,  while  for  criminals 
who  followed  equally  the  laws  of  their  nature  they  had 
anger  rather  than  pity.  As  well  praise  the  bee  for  yield- 
ing honey  or  the  rose  for  making  fragrant  the  air.  Cer- 
tainly his  character  had  more  of  honey  than  of  sting,  of 
rose  than  of  thorn  ;  humility  Avas  an  unnecessary  addition 
to  the  Avorld's  suffering ;  but  that  he  did  not  lack  sting 
or  thorn,  his  own  sisters  had  discovered  when  they  had 
tried  to  keep  their  excommunicated  brother  out  of  his  pat- 
rimony. How  puzzled  Miriam  and  llebekah  had  been  by 
his  forcing  them  at  law  to  give  up  the  money  and  then  pre- 
senting it  to  them.  They  could  not  see  that  to  prove  the 
outcast  Jew  had  yet  his  legal  rights  was  a  duty  ;  the  money 
itself  a  burden.  Yes,  popular  ethics  was  sadly  to  seek,  and 
involuntarily  his  hand  stretched  itself  out  and  lovingly  pos- 
sessed itself  of  the  ever-growing  manuscript  of  his  magnum 
opus.  His  eye  caressed  those  serried  concatenated  prop- 
ositions, resolving  and  demonstrating  the  secret  of  the 
universe ;  the  indirect  outcome  of  his  yearning  search  for 
happiness,  for  some  object  of  love  that  endured  amid  the 
eternal  flux,  and  in  loving  which  he  should  find  a  perfect 
and  eternal  joy.  Riches,  honor,  the  pleasures  of  sense — 
these  held  no  true  and  abiding  bliss.  The  passion  with 
which  van  den  Ende's  daughter  had  agitated  him  had  been 
wisely  mastered,  unavowed.  But  in  the  Infinite  Substance 
he  had  found  the  object  of  his  search :  the  necessary  Eternal 
Being  in  and  through  whom  all  else  existed,  among  whose 
infinite  attributes  Avere  thought  and  extension,  that  made 
up  the  one  poor  universe  known  to  man  ;  whom  man  could 
love  without  desiring  to  be  loved  in  return,  secure  in  the 
consciousness  he  Avas  not  outside  the  Divine  order.  His 
book,  he  felt,  Avould  change  theology  to  theonomy,  even  as 
Copernicus  and  Kepler  and  Galileo  had  changed  astrology 

204 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

to  astronomy.  This  chain  of  thoughts,  forged  link  by 
link,  without  rest,  Avithout  hurry,  as  he  sat  grinding  his 
glasses,  day  by  day,  and  year  by  year  :  these  propositions, 
laboriously  polished  like  his  telescope  and  microscope 
lenses,  were  no  less  designed  for  the  furtherance  and  clari- 
fication of  human  vision. 

And  yet  not  primarily  vision.  The  first  Jew  to  create 
an  original  philosophy,  he  yet  remained  a  Jew  in  aiming 
not  at  abstract  knowledge,  but  at  concrete  conduct :  and 
was  most  of  all  a  Jew  in  his  proclamation  of  the  Unity. 
He  would  teach  a  world  distraught  and  divided  by  religious 
strife  the  higher  joath  of  spiritual  blessedness  ;  bring  it  the 
Jewish  greeting — Peace.  But  that  he  was  typical — even 
by  his  very  isolation — of  the  race  that  had  cast  him  out,  he 
did  not  himself  perceive,  missing  by  his  static  philosophy 
the  sense  of  historical  enchainment,  and  continuous  racial 
inspiration. 

As,  however,  he  glanced  to-day  over  the  pages  of  Part 
Three,  "  The  Origin  and  Nature  of  the  Affects,"  he  felt 
somehow  out  of  tune  with  this  bloodless  vivisection  of  hu- 
man emotions,  this  chain  of  quasi-mathematical  proposi- 
tions with  their  Euclidean  array  of  data  and  scholia,  mar- 
shalling passions  before  the  cold  throne  of  intellect.  The 
exorcised  image  of  Klaartje  van  den  Ende — raised  again  by 
the  landlady's  words — hovered  amid  the  demonstrations. 
He  caught  gleams  of  her  between  the  steps.  Her  perfect 
Greek  face  flashed  up  and  vanished  as  in  coquetry,  her 
smile  flickered.  How  learned  she  was,  how  wise,  how 
witty,  how  beautiful !  And  the  instant  he  allowed  himself 
to  muse  thus,  she  appeared  in  full  fascination,  skating  su- 
perbly on  the  frozen  canals,  or  smiling  down  at  him  from 
the  ancient  balustrade  of  the  window  (surely  young  Gerard 
Dou  must  have  caught  an  inspiration  from  her  as  he  passed 
by).     What  happy  symposia  at  her  father's  house,  when 

205 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  classic  world  was  opening  for  the  first  time  to  the  gaze 
of  the  clogged  Talmud-student,  and  the  brilliant  cynicism 
of  the  old  doctor  combined  with  the  larger  outlook  of  his 
Christian  fellow-pupils  to  complete  his  emancipation  from 
his  native  environment.  After  the  dead  controversies 
of  Hillel  and  Shammai  in  old  Jerusalem,  how  freshening 
these  live  discussions  as  to  whether  Holland  should  liave 
sheltered  Charles  Stuart  from  the  regicide  Cromwell,  or 
whether  the  doelen-stuk  of  Rembrandt  van  Rijn  were  as 
well  painted  as  Van  Ravoste3^n's.  In  the  Jewish  quarter, 
though  Rembrandt  lived  in  it,  interest  had  been  limited  to 
the  guldens  earned  by  dirty  old  men  in  sitting  to  him. 
What  ardor,  too,  for  the  newest  science,  what  worship  of 
Descartes  and  deprecation  of  the  philosophers  before  him  ! 
And  then  the  flavor  of  romance — as  of  their  own  spices — 
wafted  from  the  talk  about  the  new  Colonies  in  the  Indies  ! 
Good  God  I  had  it  been  so  wise  to  quench  the  glow  of 
youth,  to  slip  so  silently  to  forty  year  ?  He  had  allowed 
her  to  drop  out  of  his  life — this  child  so  early  grown  to 
winning  womanhood — she  was  apparently  dead  for  him,  yet 
this  sudden  idea  of  her  proximity  had  revitalized  her  so 
triumphantly  that  the  philosopher  wondered  at  the  mir- 
acle, or  at  his  own  powers  of  self-deception. 

And  who  was  this  young  man  ? 

Had  he  analyzed  love  correctly  ?  He  turned  to  Proposi- 
tion xxxiii.  "If  we  love  a  thing  which  is  like  ourselves 
we  endeavor  as  much  as  possible  to  make  it  love  us  in  re- 
turn." His  eye  ran  over  the  proof  with  its  impressive 
summing-up.  "Or  in  other  words  (Schol.  Prop,  xiii., 
pt.  3),  we  try  to  make  it  love  us  in  retnrn."  Unimpeach- 
able logic,  but  was  it  true  ?  Had  he  tried  to  make  Klaartje 
love  him  in  return  ?  Not  unless  one  counted  the  semi- 
consciou-s  advances  of  wit-combats  and  intellectual  confi- 
dences as  she  grew  up  !     But  had  he  succeeded  ?    No,  im- 

20G 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

possible,  and  his  spirits  fell,  and  mounted  again  to  note 
how  truly  their  falling  corroborated — by  converse  reason- 
ing— his  next  Proposition.  "  The  greater  the  affect  with 
which  we  imagine  that  a  beloved  object  is  affected  towards 
us,  the  greater  will  be  our  self-exaltation."  No,  she  had 
never  given  him  cause  for  self-exaltation,  though  occa- 
sionally it  seemed  as  if  she  preferred  his  talk  to  that  of 
even  the  high-born,  fojopish  youths  sent  by  their  sires  to  sit 
at  her  father's  feet. 

In  any  case  perhaps  it  was  well  he  had  given  her  maid- 
enly modesty  no  chance  of  confession.  Marriage  had  never 
loomed  as  a  possibility  for  him — the  life  of  the  thinker 
must  needs  shrink  from  the  complications  and  prejudices 
engendered  by  domestic  happiness :  the  intellectual  love 
of  God  more  than  replaced  these  terrestrial  affections. 

But  now  a  sudden  conviction  that  nothing  could  replace 
them,  that  they  were  of  the  essence  of  personality,  wrapped 
him  round  as  with  flame.  Some  subtle  aroma  of  emotion 
like  the  waft  of  the  orange-groves  of  Burgos  in  which  his 
ancestors  had  wandered  thrilled  the  son  of  the  mists  and 
marshes.  Perhaps  it  was  only  the  conserve  of  red  roses. 
At  any  rate  that  was  useless  in  this  fever. 

He  took  up  his  tools  resolutely,  but  he  could  not  work. 
He  fell  back  on  his  rough  sketch  for  a  lucid  Algebra,  but 
his  lucid  formulge  were  a  blur.  He  went  downstairs  and 
played  with  the  delighted  children  and  listened  to  the 
landlady's  gossip,  throwing  her  a  word  or  two  of  shrewd 
counsel  on  the  everyday  matters  that  came  up.  Presently 
he  asked  her  if  the  van  den  Endes  had  told  her  anything 
of  their  plans. 

'*'0h,  they  were  going  to  stay  at  Scheveningen  for  the 
bathing.     The  second  time  they  came  up  from  there." 

His  heart  leapt.  "Scheveningen  !  Then  they  are  prac- 
tically here." 

207 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'If  they  liave  not  gone  back  to  Amsterdam." 

"True,"  he  said,  chilled. 

"  But  why  not  go  see  ?  Henri  tramped  ten  miles  forme 
every  Sunday."' 

Spinoza  turned  away.  ''No,  they  are  probably  gone 
back.     Besides,  I  know  not  their  address." 

"  Address  ?  At  Scheveningen  !  A  Anllage  where  every- 
body's business  can  be  caught  in  one  net." 

Spinoza  was  ascending  the  stairs.     "  Nay,  it  is  too  late." 

Too  late  in  sad  verity  !  What  had  a  philosopher  of  forty 
year  to  do  with  love  ? 

Back  in  his  room  he  took  up  a  lens,  but  soon  found  him- 
self re-reading  his  aphorism  on  Marriage.  "It  is  plain 
that  Marriage  is  in  accordance  with  Reason,  if  the  desire 
is  engendered  not  merely  by  external  form,  but  by  a  love 
of  begetting  children  and  wisely  educating  them  ;  and  if, 
in  addition,  the  love  both  of  the  husband  and  wife  has  for 
its  cause  not  external  form  merely,  but  chiefly  liberty  of 
mind."  Assuredly,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  the  desire 
of  children,  who  might  be  more  rationally  and  happily 
nurtured  than  himself,  had  some  part  in  his  rare  day- 
dreams, and  it  Avas  not  merely  the  noble  form  but  also  the 
noble  soul  he  divined  in  Klaartje  van  den  Ende  that  had 
stirred  his  pulses  and  was  now  soliciting  him  to  a  joy 
which  like  all  joys  Avould  mark  the  passage  to  a  greater 
perfection,  a  fuller  reality.  And  in  sooth  how  holy  was 
this  love  of  woman  he  allowed  himself  to  feel  for  a  mo- 
ment, how  easily  passing  over  into  the  greater  joy — the 
higher  perfection — the  love  of  God  ! 

Why  should  he  not  marry  ?  Means  were  easily  to  hand  ! 
He  had  only  to  accept  from  his  rich  disciples  Avhat  Avas 
really  the  Avage  of  tuition,  though  hitherto  like  the  old  Rab- 
bis he  had  preferred  to  teach  for  Truth's  sole  sake.  After  all 
Carl  Ludwig  offered  him  ample  freedom  in  philosophizing. 

208 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

But  lie  beat  down  the  tempting  images  and  sought  re- 
lief in  the  problem  posited  by  Leibnitz.  Li  vain  :  his 
manuscript  still  lay  open,  Proposition  xxxv.  was  under 
his  eye. 

"If  I  imagine  that  an  object  beloved  by  me  is  united  to 
another  person  by  the  same,  or  by  a  closer  bond  of  friend- 
ship than  that  by  which  I  myself  alone  held  the  object,  I 
shall  be  affected  with  hatred  towards  the  beloved  object 
itself  and  shall  envy  that  other  person." 

Who  was  the  young  man  ? 

He  clenched  his  teeth  :  he  had,  then,  not  yet  developed 
into  the  free  man,  redeemed  by  Eeason  from  the  bondage 
of  the  affects  whose  mechanic  workings  he  had  analyzed  so 
exliaustively.  He  was,  then,  still  as  far  from  liberty  of 
mind  as  the  peasant  who  has  never  taken  to  pieces  the 
passions  that  automatically  possess  him.  If  this  fever  did 
not  leave  him,  he  must  try  blood-letting  on  himself,  as 
though  in  a  tertian.  He  returned  resolutely  to  his  work. 
But  when  he  had  ground  and  polished  for  half  an  hour, 
and  felt  soothed,  "  Why  should  I  not  go  to  Scheveningen 
all  the  same  ?"  he  asked  himself.  Why  should  he  miss 
the  smallest  chance  of  seeing  his  old  friends  who  had  taken 
the  trouble  to  call  on  him  twice  ? 

Yes,  he  Avould  walk  to  the  hamlet  and  ponder  the  optical 
problem,  and  the  terms  in  which  to  refuse  the  Elector 
Palatine's  offer.  He  set  out  at  once,  forgetting  the  dan- 
gers of  the  streets  and  in  reality  lulling  suspicion  by  his 
fearless  demeanor.  The  afternoon  was  closing  somewhat 
mistily,  and  an  occasional  fit  of  coughing  reminded  him  he 
should  have  had  more  than  a  falling  collar  round  his  throat 
and  a  thicker  doublet  than  his  velvet.  He  thought  of 
going  back  for  his  camelot  cloak,  but  he  was  now  outside 
the  north-west  gate,  so,  lighting  his  pipe,  he  trudged  along 
the  pleasant  new-paved  road  that  led  betwixt  the  avenues 
o  209 


DKEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

of  oak  and  lime  to  Scheveningen.  He  had  little  eye  for 
the  beautiful  play  of  color-shades  among  the  glooming 
green  perspectives  on  either  hand,  scarcely  noted  the 
cornel}''  peasant- worn  en  with  their  scarlet-lined  cloaks  and 
glittering  "head -irons/'  who  rattled  by,  packed  jiictu- 
resquely  in  carts.  Half-way  to  the  hamlet  the  brooding 
pedestrian  was  startled  to  find  his  hand  in  the  cordial 
grip  of  the  very  man  he  had  gone  out  to  see. 

"Salve,  0  Benedicte,"  joyously  cried  the  fiery-eyed 
veteran.  "1  had  despaired  of  ever  setting  eyes  again  on 
thy  black  curls  !"  Van  den  Ende's  own  hair  tossed  under 
his  wide-brimmed  tapering  hat  as  wildly  as  ever,  though 
it  was  now  as  white  as  his  ruff,  his  blood  seemed  to  beat 
as  boisterousl}'',  and  a  few  minutes'  conversation  sufficed  to 
show  Spinoza  that  the  old  pedagogue's  soul  was  even  more 
unchanged  than  his  hodj.  The  same  hilarious  atheism, 
the  same  dogmatic  disbelief,  the  same  conviction  of  human 
folly  combined  as  illogically,  as  of  yore,  with  schemes  of 
perfect  states  :  time  seemed  to  have  mellowed  no  opinion, 
toned  down  no  crudity.  He  was  coming,  he  said,  to  make 
a  last  hopeless  call  on  his  famous  pupil,  the  others  were 
working.  The  others  —  he  explained  —  were  his  little 
Klaartje  and  his  newest  pupil,  Kerkkrinck,  a  rich  and 
stupid  youth,  but  honest  and  good-hearted  withal.  He 
had  practically  turned  him  over  to  Klaartje,  who  was  as 
good  a  guide  to  the  Humanities  as  himself — more  especially 
for  the  stupid.  "She  was  too  young  in  thy  time,  Bene- 
dict," concluded  the  old  man  jocosely. 

Benedict  thought  that  she  was  too  young  now  to  be  left 
instructing  good-hearted  young  men,  but  he  only  said, 
"  Yes,  I  daresay  I  was  stupid.  One  should  cut  one's  teeth 
on  Latin  conjugations,  and  I  was  already  fourteen  with  a 
full  Kabbinical  diploma  before  I  was  even  aware  there  was 
such  a  person  as  Cicero  in  history." 

210 


THE    MAKEE    OF    LENSES 

*'Aiid  now  tlion  writest  Ciceronian  Latin.  Shake  not 
thy  head — 'tis  a  compliment  to  myself,  not  to  thee.  AVhat 
if  thou  art  sometimes  more  exact  than  elegant — fancy  what 
a  coil  of  Hebrew  cobwebs  I  had  to  sweep  out  of  that  brain- 
pan of  thine  ere  I  transformed  thee  from  Barnch  to  Bene- 
dict." 

"Nay,  some  of  the  webs  were  of  silk,  I  see  now  how 
much  Benedict  owes  to  Baruch.  The  Rabbinical  gym- 
nastic is  no  ill-training,  though  uftmethodic.  Maimonides 
de-anthropomorphises  God,  the  Cabalah  grapples,  if  con- 
fusedly, with  the  problem  of  philosophy." 

"  Thou  didst  not  always  speak  so  leniently  of  thy  ancient 
learning,  Methinks  thou  hast  forgotten  thy  sufferings 
and  the  catalogue  of  curses.  I  would  shut  thee  up  a  week 
with  Moses  Zacut,  and  punish  you  both  with  each  other's 
society.  The  room  should  be  four  cubits  square,  so  that 
he  should  be  forced  to  disobey  the  Ban  and  be  within  four 
cubits  of  thee." 

"Thou  forgettest  to  reckon  with  the  mathematics," 
laughed  Spinoza,  "We  should  fly  to  opposite  ends  of  the 
diagonal  and  achieve  five  and  two  third  cubits  of  separa- 
tion." 

"Ah,  fuzzle  me  not  with  thy  square  roots.  I  was  never 
a  calculator." 

"  But  Moses  Zacut  was  not  so  unbearable.  I  mind  me 
he  also  learnt  Latin  under  thee." 

"  Ay,  and  now  spits  out  to  see  me.  Fasted  forty  days 
for  his  sin  in  learning  the  deviPs  language." 

"  What  converted  him  ?" 

"That  Turkish  mountebank,  I  imagine," 

"Sabbata   Zevi  ?" 

"Yes;  he  still  clings  to  him  though  the  Messiah  has 
turned  Mohammedan.  He  has  published  Five  Evidences  of 
the  Faith,  expounding  that  his  Redeemer's  design  is  to  bring 

211 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

over  the  Moliammedans  to  Judaism.  Ha  !  ha !  What  a 
lesson  ill  the  genesis  of  religions  I  The  elders  who  excom- 
municated thee  have  all  heen  bitten — a  delicious  revenge 
for  thee.  Ho  I  ho  I  What  fools  these  mortals  be,  as  the 
Englisli  poet  says.  I  long  to  shake  our  Christians  and  cry, 
'Nincompoops,  Jack-puddings,  feather-heads,  look  in  the 
eyes  of  these  Jews  and  see  your  own  silly  selves.'" 

*"Tis  not  the  way  to  help  or  uplift  mankind,"  said  Spi- 
noza mildly.  "  Men  should  be  imbued  Avith  a  sense  of 
their  strength,  not  of  their  weakness." 

"In  other  words,"  laughed  the  doctor,  "the  way  to 
uplift  men  is  to  appeal  to  the  virtues  they  do  not  pos- 
sess." 

"Even  so,"  assented  Spinoza,  unmoved.  "The  virtues 
they  may  come  to  possess.  Men  should  be  taught  to  look 
on  noble  patterns,  not  on  mean."  • 

"And  what  good  will  that  do  ?  Moses  Zacut  had  me 
and  thee  to  look  on,"  chuckled  the  old  man.  "No,  Bene- 
dict, I  believe  with  Solomon,  '  Answer  a  fool  according  to 
his  folly.'  Thou  art  too  half-hearted — thou  deniest  God 
like  a  serving-man  who  says  his  master  is  out — tliou  leavest 
a  hope  he  may  be  there  all  the  Avliile.  One  should  play 
bowls  with  the  holy  idols." 

Spinoza  perceived  it  was  useless  to  make  the  old  man 
understand  how  little  their  ideas  coincided.  "  I  would 
rather  uplift  than  overturn,"  he  said  mildly. 

The  old  sceptic  laughed:  "A  wonder  thou  art  not  sub- 
scribing to  ui)lift  the  Third  Temple,"  he  cried.  "  So  they 
call  this  new  synagogue  they  are  building  in  Amsterdam 
with  such  to-do." 

"  Indeed  ?  I  had  not  heard  of  it.  If  I  could  hope  it 
were  indeed  the  Third  Temple,"  and  a  mystic  light  shone 
in  his  eyes,  "I  would  subscribe  all  I  had." 

"  Thou  art  the  only  Christian  I  have  ever  known  !"  said. 

212 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

van  den  Ende,  half  mockingly,  half  tenderly.    *' And  thou 
art  a  Jew." 

"  So  was  Christ/' 

''True,  one  forgets  that.  But  the  roles  are  becoming 
nicely  reversed.  Thou  forgivest  thine  enemies,  and  in  Am- 
sterdam 'tis  the  Jews  who  are  going  to  the  Christians  to 
borrow  money  for  this  synagogue  of  theirs  !" 

"  How  is  the  yoimg  J7(ffronw  ?"  asked  Spinoza  at  last. 

''Klaartje!  She  blooms  like  a  Jan  de  Heem  flower- 
piece.  This  rude  air  has  made  a  rose  of  my  lily.  Her 
cheeks  might  have  convinced  the  imbeciles  who  took  away 
their  practice  from  poor  old  Dr.  Harvey.  One  can  see  her 
blood  circulating.  By  the  way,  thy  old  crony.  Dr.  Ludwig 
Meyer,  bade  me  give  thee  his  love." 

"  Dost  think  she  will  remember  me  ?" 

"  Remember  thee,  Benedict  ?  Did  she  not  send  me  to 
thee  to-day  ?  Thy  name  is  ever  on  those  rosy  lips  of  hers 
— to  lash  dull  pupils  withal.  How  thou  didst  acquire  half 
the  tongues  of  Europe  in  less  time  that  they  master  rinr-u)." 
Spinoza  allowed  his  standing  desire  to  cough  to  find  satis- 
faction. He  turned  his  head  aside  and  held  his  hand  be- 
fore his  mouth.  ''  We  quarrel  about  thy  Tracfatns — she 
and  I — for  of  course  she  recognized  thine  olden  argumenta- 
tions just  as  I  recognized  my  tricks  of  style." 

*'  She  reads  me  then  ?" 

"  As  a  Lutheran  his  Bible.  'Twas  partially  her  hope  of 
threshing  out  certain  difficulties  with  thee  that  decided  us 
on  Scheveningen.  I  do  not  say  that  the  forest  which  poor 
Paul  Potter  painted  was  not  a  rival  attraction." 

A  joy  beyond  the  bounds  of  Reason  was  swelling  the 
philosopher's  breast.  Unconsciously  his  step  quickened. 
He  encouraged  his  companion  to  chatter  more  about  his 
daughter,  how  van  Ter  Borch  had  made  of  her  one  of  his 
masterpieces  in  white  satin,  how  she  herself  dabbled  dain- 

213 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

tily  in  all  the  fine  arts,  but  the  old  man  diverged  irrevoca- 
bly into  politics,  breathed  fire  and  fury  against  the  French, 
spoke  of  his  near  visit  to  Paris  on  a  diplomatic  errand, 
and,  growing  more  confidential,  hinted  of  a  great  scheme, 
an  insurrection  in  Normandy,  Admiral  Tromp  to  swoop 
down  on  Quilleboeuf,  a  Platonic  republic  to  be  reared  on 
the  ruins  of  the  French  monarchy.  Had  Spinoza  seen  the 
shadow  of  a  shameful  death  hovering  over  the  spirited 
veteran,  had  he  foreknown  that  the  poor  old  gentleman — 
tool  of  two  desperate  roices  and  afemme  galante, — was  to  be 
executed  in  Paris  for  this  very  conspiracy,  the  words  that 
sounded  so  tediously  in  his  ear  would  have  taken  on  a 
tragic  dignity. 

They  approached  the  village,  whose  huts  loomed  solemn- 
ly between  the  woods  and  the  dunes  in  the  softening  twi- 
light. The  van  den  Endes  were  lodged  with  the  captain 
of  a  fishing-smack  in  a  long,  narrow  wooden  house  with 
sloping  mossy  tiles  and  small  -  paned  windows.  The  old 
man  thrcAv  open  the  door  of  the  little  shell-decorated  par- 
lor and  peered  in.  "  Klaartje  !"  his  voice  rang  out.  A 
parrot  from  the  Brazils  screamed,  but  Spinoza  only  heard 
the  soft  "  Yes,  father,"  that  came  sweetly  from  some  upper 
region. 

"Guess  whom  I've  brought  thee  ?" 

"Benedict  !"  She  flew  down,  a  vision  of  loveliness  and 
shimmering  silk  and  white  pearls.  Spinoza's  hand  trem- 
bled in  hers  that  gleamed  snowily  from  the  ruffled  half- 
sleeve  ;  the  soft  warmth  burnt  away  philosophy.  They  ex- 
changed the  commoni^laces  of  the  situation. 

*'  But  where  is  Kerkkrinck  ?"  said  tlie  doctor. 

"At  his  toilette."  She  exchanged  a  half -smile  with 
Spinoza,  who  thrilled  deliciously. 

"  Then  I'll  go  make  mine,"  cried  her  father.  "  We  sup 
in  half  an  hour,  Benedict.     Thou'lt  stay,  we  go  to-morrow. 

214 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

'Tis  the  last  snpper."  And,  laughing  as  if  he  had  achieved 
a  blasphemy,  and  unconscious  of  the  shadow  of  doom,  the 
gay  old  freethinker  disappeared. 

As  Klaartjo  spoke  of  his  book  with  sparkling  eyes,  and 
discussed  points  in  a  low,  musical  voice,  something  crude 
and  elemental  flamed  in  the  philosopher,  something  called 
to  him  to  fuse  himself  with  the  universal  life  more  tangi- 
bly than  through  the  intellect.  His  doubts  and  vacilla- 
tions fled:  he  must  speak  now,  or  the  hour  and  the  mood 
would  never  recur.  If  he  could  only  drag  the  conversation 
from  the  philosophical.  By  a  side  door  it  escaped  of  itself 
into  the  personal  ;  her  father  did  not  care  to  take  her  with 
him  to  Paris,  spoke  of  possible  dangers,  and  hinted  it  was 
time  she  was  off  his  hands.  There  seemed  a  confession 
trembling  in  her  laughing  eye.  It  gave  him  courage  to 
seize  her  fingers,  to  falter  a  request  that  she  would  come  to 
liim — to  Heidelberg  !  The  brightness  died  suddenly  out  of 
her  face  :  it  looked  drawn  and  white. 

After  a  palpitating  silence  she  said,  "  But  thou  art  a 
Jew  !" 

He  was  taken  aback,  he  let  her  fingers  drop.  From  his 
parched  throat  came  the  words,  "  But  thou  art — no  Chris- 
tian." 

*' I  know — but  nevertheless  —  oh,  I  never  dreamed  of 
anything  of  this  with  thee — 'twas  all  of  the  brain,  the 
soul." 

"Soul  and  body  are  but  one  fact." 

"Women  are  not  philosophers.  T  — "  She  stopped. 
Her  fingers  played  nervously  with  the  pearl  necklace  that 
rose  and  fell  on  her  bosom.  He  found  himself  noting  its 
details,  wondering  that  she  had  developed  such  extravagant 
tastes.  Then,  awaking  to  her  distress,  he  said  quietly, 
"  Then  there  is  no  hope  for  me  ?" 

Her  face  retained  its  look  of  pain. 

215 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"Not  ever?  You  could  never — ?"  His  cough  shook 
him. 

"  If  there  had  been  no  other,"  she  murmured,  and  her 
eyes  drooped  half-apologetically  towards  the  necklace. 

The  bitterness  of  death  was  in  his  soul.  He  had  a  sad- 
den ironic  sense  of  a  gap  in  his  mathematical  philosophy. 
He  had  fathomed  the  secret  of  Being,  had  analyzed  and 
unified  all  things  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  yet  here 
was  an  isolated  force — a  woman's  will — that  stood  obsti- 
nately between  him  and  happiness.  He  seemed  to  visualize 
it,  behind  her  serious  face,  perversely  mocking. 

The  handle  of  the  door  turned,  and  a  young  man  came 
in.  He  Avas  in  the  pink  of  fashion — a  mantle  of  Venetian 
silk  disposed  in  graceful  folds  about  his  handsome  person, 
his  neckcloth  of  Flanders  lace,  his  knee-breeches  of  satin, 
his  shoes  gold-buckled,  his  dagger  jewelled.  Energy  flashed 
from  his  eye,  vigor  radiated  from  his  every  movement. 

"Ah,  Diedrich  !"  she  cried,  as  her  face  lit  up  with  more 
than  relief.  "  Here  is  Heer  Spinoza  at  last.  This  is  Heer 
Kerkkrinck  !" 

"Spinoza!"  A  thrill  of  awe  was  in  the  young  man's 
voice,  the  reverence  of  the  consciously  stupid  for  the  great 
brains  of  the  earth.  He  did  not  take  Spinoza's  outstretched 
hand  in  his  but  put  it  to  his  lips. 

The  lonely  thinker  and  the  happy  lover  stood  thus  for  an 
instant,  envying  and  admiring  each  other.  Then  Spinoza 
said  cordially,  "  And  now  that  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  Heer  Kerkkrinck  I  must  hurry  back  to  town  ere 
the  road  grows  too  dark." 

"  But  father  expects  thee  to  sup  with  us,"  murmured 
Klaartje. 

"'Tis  a  moonless  night,  and  footpads  may  mistake  me 
for  a  Jew."  He  smiled.  "Make  my  apologies  to  the 
doctor." 

216 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

It  was  indeed  a  moonless  night,  but  he  did  not  make  for 
the  highroad.     Instinctively  he  turned  seaAvards. 

A  slight  mist  brooded  over  the  face  of  all  things,  adding 
to  the  night,  blurring  the  village  to  a  few  gleams  of  fire. 
On  the  broad  sandy  beach  he  could  just  see  the  outlines  of 
the  boats  and  the  fishing-nets.  He  leaned  against  the  gun- 
wale of  a  2)i)ih,  inhaling  the  scents  of  tar  and  brine,  and 
watching  the  apparent  movement  seawards  of  some  dark 
sailing-vessel  which,  despite  the  great  red  anchor  at  his 
feet,  seemed  to  sail  outwards  as  each  wave  came  in. 

The  sea  stretched  away,  soundless,  moveless,  and  dark, 
save  where  it  broke  in  Avhite  foam  at  his  feet ;  near  the 
horizon  a  pitch-black  wall  of  cloud  seemed  to  rise  sheer 
from  the  water  and  join  the  gray  sky  that  arched  over  the 
great  flat  spaces.  And  in  the  absence  of  stars,  the  earth 
itself  seemed  to  gain  in  vastness  and  mystery,  its  own  aw- 
fulness,  as  it  sped  round,  unlessened  by  those  endless  per- 
spectives of  vaster  planets.  And  from  the  soundless  night 
and  sea  and  sky,  and  from  those  austere  and  solemn  stretches 
of  sand  and  forest,  wherein  forms  and  colors  Avere  lost  in  a 
brooding  unity,  there  came  to  Spinoza  a  fresh  uplifting 
sense  of  the  infinite,  timeless  Substance,  to  love  and  wor- 
ship which  was  exaltation  and  ecstasy.  The  lonely  thinker 
communed  with  the  lonely  Being. 

''Though  He  slay  me,"  his  heart  Avhispered,  "yet  will  I 
trust  in  Him." 

Yea,  though  the  wheels  of  things  had  passed  over  his 
body,  it  was  still  his  to  rejoice  in  the  eternal  movement 
that  brought  happiness  to  others. 

Others  !  How  full  the  world  was  of  existences,  each 
perfect  after  its  kind,  the  laAvs  of  God's  nature  freely  pro- 
ducing every  concejition  of  His  infinite  intellect.  In  man 
alone  how  many  genera,  species,  individuals — from  saints 
to  criminals,  from  old  philosophers  to  gallant  young  livers, 

217 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

all  to  be  understood,  none  to  be  hated.  And  man  but  a 
fraction  of  the  life  of  one  little  globe,  that  turned  not  on 
man's  axis,  nor  moved  wholly  to  man's  ends.  This  sea 
that  stretched  away  unheaving  was  not  sublimely  dead — 
even  to  the  vulgar  apprehension  —  but  penetrated  w'ith 
quivering  sensibility,  the  exquisite  fresh  feeling  of  fishes 
darting  and  gliding,  tingling  with  life  in  fin  and  tail,  chas- 
ing and  chased,  zestfully  eating  or  swiftly  eaten  :  in  the 
air  the  ecstasy  of  flight,  on  the  earth  the  happy  movements 
of  animals,  the  very  dust  palpitating  pleasurably  with 
crawling  and  creeping  populations,  the  soil  riddled  Avith 
the  sluggish  voluptuousness  of  worms  ;  each  tiniest  creat- 
ure a  perfect  expression  of  the  idea  of  its  essence,  individ- 
ualized by  its  conatus,  its  eifort  to  persist  in  existence  on 
its  own  lines,  though  in  man  alone  the  potentiality  of  enter- 
ing through  selfless  lleason  into  the  intellectual  ecstasy  of 
the  love  with  which  God  loves  Himself — to  be  glad  of  the 
strength  of  the  lion  and  the  grace  of  the  gazelle  and  the 
beauty  of  the  woman  who  belongs  to  another.  Blessings 
on  the  happy  lovers,  blessings  on  all  the  wonderful  crea- 
tion, praise,  praise  to  the  Eternal  Being  whose  modes  body 
forth  the  everlasting  pageant. 

Beginningless  aeons  before  his  birth  It  had  been  —  the 
great  pageant  to  whose  essence  Being  belonged  —  endless 
aeons  after  his  ephemeral  passing  It  would  still  throb  and 
glow,  still  offer  to  the  surrendered  human  soul  the  supreme 
uplift.  He  had  but  a  moment  to  contemplate  It,  yet  to 
understand  Its  essence,  to  know  the  great  laws  of  Its  work- 
ings, to  see  It  sub  specie  aeternitatis,  was  to  partake  of  Its 
eternity.  There  was  no  need  to  journey  either  in  space  or 
time  to  discover  Its  movement,  everywhere  the  same,  as 
perfect  in  tlie  remotest  past  as  in  the  farthest  future, 
by  no  means  working — as  the  vulgar  imagined — to  a  pros- 
pective perfection  ;  everywhere  educed  from  the  same  en- 

318 


THE    MAKER    OF    LENSES 

during  necessities  of  the  divine  freedom.  Progress  !  As 
illusory  as  the  movement  of  yon  little  vessel  that,  an- 
chored stably,  seemed  always  sailing  out  towards  the 
horizon. 

And  so  in  that  trance  of  adoration,  in  that  sacred  Glory, 
in  that  rapturous  consciousness  that  he  had  fought  his  last 
fight  with  the  enslaving  affects,  there  formed  themselves  in 
his  soul — white  heat  at  one  with  white  light — the  last  sen- 
tences of  his  great  work  : — 

''AYe  see,  then,  what  is  the  strength  of  the  wise  man, 
and  by  how  much  he  surpasses  the  ignorant  who  is  driven 
forward  by  lust  alone.  For  the  ignorant  man  is  not  only 
agitated  by  eternal  causes  in  many  ways,  and  never  enjoys 
true  peaCe  of  soul,  but  lives  also  ignorant,  as  it  were,  both 
of  God  and  of  things,  and  as  soon  as  he  ceases  to  suffer, 
ceases  also  to  be.  On  the  other  hand,  the  wise  man  is 
scarcely  ever  moved  in  his  mind,  but  being  conscious  by  a 
certain  eternal  necessity  of  himself,  of  God,  and  of  things, 
never  ceases  to  be,  and  always  enjoys  true  peace  of  soul. 
If  the  way  which  leads  hither  seem  very  difficult,  it  can 
nevertheless  be  found.  It  must  indeed  be  difficult  since  it 
is  so  seldom  discovered  :  for  if  salvation  lay  ready  to  hand 
and  could  be  discovered  without  great  labor,  how  could 
it  be  possible  that  it  should  be  neglected  almost  by  every- 
body ?  But  all  noble  things  are  as  difficult  as  they  are 
rare." 

So  ran  the  words  that  were  not  to  die. 

Suddenly  a  halo  on  the  upper  edge  of  the  black  cloud 
heralded  the  struggling  through  of  the  moon  :  she  shot 
out  a  crescent,  reddish  in  the  mist,  then  labored  into  her 
full  orb,  wellnigh  golden  as  the  sun. 

Spinoza  started  from  his  reverie  :  his  doublet  was  wet 
with  dew,  he  felt  the  mist  in  his  throat.  He  coughed  : 
then  it  was  as  if  the  salt  of  the  air  had  got  into  his  mouth, 

219 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

and  as  he  spat  out  the  blood,  he  knew  he  would  not  remain 
long  sundered  from  the  Eternal  Unity. 

But  there  is  nothing  on  Avhich  a  free  man  will  meditate 
less  than  on  death.  Desirous  to  Avrite  down  what  was  in 
his  mind,  Spinoza  turned  from  the  sea  and  pursued  his 
peaceful  path  homewards. 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 


Now  that  I  have  come  to  the  close  of  my  earthly  days, 
and  that  the  higher  circles  will  soon  open  to  me,  Avhereof  I 
have  learned  the  secrets  from  my  revered  Master — where 
there  is  neither  eating  nor  drinking,  but  the  pious  sit 
crowned  and  delight  themselves  with  the  vision  of  the  God- 
head— I  would  fain  leave  some  chronicle,  in  these  confused 
and  evil  days,  of  him  whom  I  have  loved  best  on  earth,  for 
he  came  to  teach  man  the  true  life  and  the  true  worship. 
To  him,  the  ever  glorious  and  luminous  Israel  Baal  Shem, 
the  one  true  Master  of  the  Name,  I  owe  my  redemption 
from  a  living  death.  For  he  found  me  buried  alive  under 
a  mountain  of  ashes,  and  he  drew  me  out  and  kindled  the 
ashes  to  fire,  so  that  I  cheered  myself  thereat.  And  since 
now  the  flame  is  like  to  go  out  again,  and  the  Master's 
teaching  to  be  choked  and  concealed  beneath  that  same 
ash-mountain,  I  pray  God  that  He  inspire  my  unready  quill 
to  set  down  a  true  picture  of  the  Man  and  his  doctrine. 

Of  my  own  history  I  do  not  know  that  it  is  needful  to 
tell  very  much.  My  grandfather  came  to  Poland  from 
Vienna,  whence  he  had  been  expelled  with  all  the  Jews  of 
the  Arch-Duchy,  to  please  the  Jesuit-ridden  Empress  Mar- 
garet, who  thus  testified  her  gratitude  to  Heaven  for  her 
recovery  from  an  accident  that  had  befallen  her  at  a  court 

221 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

ball.  I  have  heard  the  old  man  tell  how  trumpeters  pro- 
claimed in  the  streets  the  Emperor's  edict,  and  how  every 
petition  proved  as  futile  as  the  great  gold  cup  and  the  sil- 
ver jug  and  basin  presented  by  the  Jews  to  the  Imperial 
couple  as  they  came  out  of  church,  after  the  thanksgiving 
ceremony. 

It  was  an  ill  star  that  guided  my  grandfather's  feet 
towards  Poland.  The  Jews  of  Poland  had  indeed  once 
been  paramount  in  Europe,  but  the  Cossack  massacres  and 
the  disruption  of  the  kingdom  had  laid  them  low,  and  they 
spawned  beggars  Avho  wandered  through  Europe,  preach- 
ing and  wheedling  with  equal  hyper-subtlety.  My  father 
at  any  rate  escaped  mendicancy,  for  he  managed  to  obtain 
a  tiny  farm  in  the  north-east  of  Lithuania,  though  Avhat 
with  the  exactions  of  the  Prince  of  the  estate,  and  the  bru- 
talities of  the  Russian  regiments  quartered  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, his  life  was  bitter  as  the  waters  of  Marah.  The 
room  in  which  I  was  born  constituted  our  whole  hut,  Avhicli 
was  black  as  a  charred  log  within  and  without,  and  never 
saw  the  sunlight  save  through  rents  in  the  paper  Avhicli 
covered  the  crossed  strij^es  of  pine  that  formed  the  win- 
dows. In  winter,  Avhen  the  stove  heated  the  hovel  to  suf- 
focation, and  the  wind  and  rain  drove  back  the  smoke 
through  the  hole  in  the  roof  that  served  for  chimney,  the 
air  was  almost  as  noxious  to  its  human  inhabitants  as  the 
smoke  to  the  vermin  in  the  half- washed  garments  that 
hung  across  poles.  We  sat  at  such  times  on  the  floor,  not 
daring  to  sit  higher,  for  fear  of  suffocation  in  the  denser 
atmosphere  hovering  over  us  ;  and  I  can  still  feel  the  drip, 
drip,  on  my  head,  of  the  fat  from  the  sausages  that  hung 
a-drying.  In  a  corner  of  this  living  and  sleeping  room 
stood  the  bucket  of  clean  water,  and  alongside  it  the 
slop-pail  and  the  pail  into  which  my  father  milked  the 
cow.     Poor   old  cow  !     She   was  quite    like   one    of   the 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

family,  and  often  lingered  on  in  the  room  after  being 
milked. 

My  mother  kneaded  bread  with  the  best,  and  was  as  pious 
as  she  was  deft,  never  omitting  to  throw  the  Sabbath  dough 
in  the  fire.  Not  that  her  prowess  as  a  cook  had  much 
opportunity,  for  our  principal  fare  was  corn-bread,  mixed 
with  bran  and  sour  cabbage  and  red  beets,  which  lay  stored 
on  the  floor  in  tubs.  Here  we  all  lived  together  —  my 
grandfather,  my  parents,  my  brother  and  sister  ;  not  so  un- 
happy, especially  on  Sabbaths  and  festivals,  when  we  ate 
fish  cooked  with  butter  in  the  evening,  and  meat  at  dinner- 
time, washed  down  with  mead  or  spirits.  We  children — 
and  indeed  our  elders  — were  not  seldom  kicked  and  cud- 
gelled by  the  Eussian  soldiers,  when  they  were  in  liquor, 
but  we  could  be  merry  enough  romping  about  ragged  and 
unwashed,  and  our  real  life  was  lived  in  the  Holy  Land, 
with  patriarchs,  kings,  and  prophets,  and  we  knew  that  we 
should  return  thither  some  day,  and  inherit  Paradise. 

Once,  I  remember,  the  Princess,  the  daughter  of  our 
Prince,  being  fatigued  while  out  hunting,  came  to  rest  her- 
self in  our  mean  hut,  with  her  ladies  and  her  lackeys,  all  so 
beautiful  and  splendid,  and  glittering  with  gold  and  silver 
lace.  I  stared  at  the  Princess  with  her  lovely  face  and  rich 
dress,  as  if  my  eyes  would  burst  from  their  sockets.  "0 
how  beautiful  !"  I  ejaculated  at  last,  with  a  sob. 

"  Little  fool !"  Avhispered  my  father  soothingly.  "  In  the 
world  to  come  the  Princess  will  kindle  the  stove  for  us." 

I  was  struck  dumb  with  a  medley  of  feelings.  What ! 
such  happiness  in  store  for  us — for  us,  who  were  now  buf- 
feted about  by  drunken  Cossacks  !  But  then  —  the  poor 
Princess  !  How  she  would  soil  her  splendid  dress,  lighting 
our  fire  !  My  eyes  filled  with  tears  at  the  sight  of  her  beau- 
tiful face,  that  seemed  so  unconscious  of  the  shame  waiting 
for  it.     I  felt  I  would  get  up  early,  and  do  her  task  for  her 

228 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

secretly.  Now  I  have  learnt  from  my  Master  the  mysteries 
of  the  World-To-Come,  and  I  thank  tlie  Name  that  there 
is  a  sphere  in  heaven  for  princesses  who  do  no  wrong. 

My  brother  and  I  did  not  get  nearer  heaven  by  our  trans- 
ference to  school,  for  the  Cheder  was  a  hut  little  larger 
than  and  certainly  as  smoky  as  our  own,  where  a  crowd  of 
youngsters  of  all  ages  sat  on  hard  benches  or  on  the  bare 
earth,  according  to  the  state  of  the  upper  atmosphere. 
The  master,  attired  in  a  dirty  blouse,  sat  unflinchingly  on 
the  table,  so  as  to  dominate  the  whole  school-room,  and  be- 
tween his  kness  he  held  a  bowl,  in  which,  with  a  gigantic 
pestle,  he  brayed  tobacco  into  snulf.  The  only  work  he  did 
many  a  day  was  to  beat  some  child  black  and  blue,  and 
sometimes  in  a  savage  fit  of  rage  he  would  half  wring  off  a 
boy's  ear,  or  almost  gouge  out  an  eye.  The  rest  of  the 
teaching  was  done  by  the  ushers — each  in  his  corner — who 
were  no  less  vindictive,  and  would  often  confiscate  to  their 
own  consumption  the  breakfasts  and  lunches  we  brought 
with  us.  What  wonder  if  our  only  heaven  was  when  the 
long  day  finished,  or  when  Sabbath  brought  us  a  whole 
holiday,  and  new  moon  a  half. 

Of  the  teaching  I  acquired  here,  and  later  in  the  Beth- 
Hamidrash  —  for  I  was  destined  by  my  grandfather  for  a 
Rabbi — my  heart  is  too  heavy  to  speak.  AVho  does  not 
know  the  arid  wilderness  of  ceremonial  law,  the  barren 
hyper-subtleties  of  Talmudic  debate,  which  in  my  country 
had  then  reached  the  extreme  of  human  sharpness  in  di- 
viding hairs  ;  the  dead  sea  fruit  of  learning,  unquickened 
by  living  waters  ?  And  who  will  wonder  if  my  soul  turned 
in  silent  longing  in  search  of  green  pastures,  and  panted 
for  the  water-brooks,  and  if  my  childish  spirit  found  solace 
in  the  tales  my  grandfather  told  me  in  secret  of  Sabbatai 
Zevi,  the  Son  of  God  ?  For  my  grandfather  was  at  heart 
a  Shab  (Sabbatian).     Though  Sabbatai  Zevi  had  turned 

224 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

Turk,  the  honest  veteran  was  one  of  those  invincibles  who 
refused  to  abandon  their  belief  in  this  once  celebrated  Mes- 
siah, and  who  afterwards  transferred  their  allegiance  to  the 
successive  Messiahs  who  reincarnated  him,  even  as  he  had 
reincarnated  King  David.  For  the  newSabbatiau  doctrine 
of  the  Godhead,  according  to  which  the  central  figure  of 
its  Trinity  found  successive  reincarnation  in  a  divine  man, 
had  left  the  door  open  for  a  series  of  prophets  who  sprang 
up,  now  in  Tripoli,  now  in  Turkey,  now  in  Hungary.  I 
must  do  my  grandfather  the  justice  to  say  that  his  motives 
were  purer  than  those  of  many  of  the  sect,  whose  chief  al- 
lurement was  probably  the  mystical  doctrine  of  free  love, 
and  the  Adamite  life  :  for  the  poor  old  man  became  more 
a  debauchee  of  pain  than  of  pleasure,  inflicting  upon  him- 
self all  sorts  of  penances,  to  hasten  the  advent  of  the  king- 
dom of  God  on  earth.  He  denied  himself  food  and  sleep, 
rolled  himself  in  snow,  practised  fumigations  and  conjura- 
tions and  self-flagellations,  so  as  to  overthrow  the  legion  of 
demons  who,  he  said,  barred  the  Messiah's  advent.  Some- 
times he  terrified  me  by  addressing  these  evil  spirits  by  their 
names,  and  attacking  them  in  a  frenzy  of  courage,  smash- 
ing windows  and  stoves  in  his  onslaught  till  he  fell  down 
in  a  torpor  of  exhaustion.  And,  though  he  was  so  ad- 
vanced in  years,  my  father  could  not  deter  him  from  join- 
ing in  the  great  pilgrimage  that,  under  Judah  the  Saint, 
set  out  for  Palestine,  to  await  the  speedy  redemption  of 
Israel.  Of  this  Judah  the  Saint,  who  boldly  fanned  the 
embers  of  the  Sabbatian  heresy  into  fierce  flame,  I  have  a 
vivid  recollection,  because,  against  all  precedent,  he  mount- 
ed the  gallery  of  the  village  synagogue  to  preach  to  the 
women.  I  remember  that  he  was  ckid  in  white  satin,  and 
held  under  his  arm  a  scroll  of  the  law,  whose  bells  jingled  as 
he  walked ;  but  what  will  never  fade  from  my  recollection  is 
the  passion  of  his  words,  his  wailing  over  our  sins,  his  pro- 
p  225 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

fuse  tears.  Lad  as  I  was^  I  was  wrought  np  to  wisli  to 
join  this  pilgrimage,  and  it  was  with  bitter  tears  of  twofold 
regret  that  I  saw  my  grandfather  set  out  on  that  disastrous 
expedition,  the  leader  of  which  died  on  the  very  day  of  its 
arrival  in  Jerusalem. 

My  own  Sabbatian  fervor  did  not  grow  cold  for  a  long 
time,  and  it  was  nourished  by  my  study  of  the  Cabalah. 
But,  although  ere  I  lay  down  my  pen  I  shall  have  to  say 
something  of  the  extraordinary  resurgence  of  this  heresy 
in  my  old  age,  and  of  the  great  suffering  which  it  caused 
my  beloved  Master,  the  Baal  Shem,  yet  Sabbatianism  did 
not  really  i)lay  much  part  in  my  early  life,  because  such 
severe  measures  were  taken  against  it  by  the  orthodox 
Rabbis  that  it  seemed  to  be  stamped  out,  and  I  myself,  as 
I  began  to  reflect  upon  it,  found  it  inconceivable  that  a 
Jewish  God  should  turn  Turk  :  as  well  expect  him  to  turn 
Christian.  But  indirectly  this  redoubtable  movement  en- 
tered largely  into  my  life  by  way  of  the  great  Eibeschiitz- 
Emden  controversy.  For  it  will  not  be  stale  in  the  mem- 
ory of  my  readers  that  this  lamentable  controversy,  which 
divided  and  embittered  the  Jews  of  all  Eurojje,  which 
stirred  up  Kings  and  Courts,  originated  in  the  accusation 
against  the  Chief  Rabbi  of  the  Three  Communities  that  the 
amulets  which  he  —  the  head  of  the  orthodox  tradition  — 
wrote  for  women  in  childbirth,  Avere  tainted  with  the  Sab- 
batian heresy.  So  bitter  and  widespread  were  the  charges 
and  counter-charges,  that  at  one  moment  every  Jewish  com- 
munity in  Europe  stood  excommunicated  by  tlie  Chief 
Rabbis  of  one  side  or  the  other  —  a  ludicrous  position, 
whereof  the  sole  advantage  was  that  it  brought  the  Ban 
into  contempt  and  disuse.  It  was  not  likely  that  a  contro- 
versy so  long-standing  and  so  impassioned  Avould  fail  to 
permeate  Poland  ;  and,  indeed,  among  us  the  quarrel,  in- 
troduced as  it  was  by  Baruch   Yavan,  who  was   agent  to 

226 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

Bruhl,  the  Saxon  Minister,  raged  in  its  most  violent  form. 
Every  fair  and  place  of  gathering  became  a  battle-field  for 
the  rival  partisans.  Bribery,  paid  spies,  treachery,  and 
violence — all  the  poisonous  fruits  of  warfare — flourished, 
and  the  cloud  of  controversy  seems  to  overhang  all  my 
early  life. 

Although  I  penetrated  deeply  into  the  Cabalah,  I  could 
never  become  a  practical  adept  in  the  Mysteries.  I  thought 
at  the  time  it  was  because  I  had  not  the  stamina  to  carry 
out  the  severer  penances,  and  was  no  true  scion  of  my 
grandsire.  I  have  still  before  me  the  gaunt,  emaciated 
figure  of  the  Saint,  whom  I  found  prostrate  in  our  out- 
house. I  brought  him  to  by  unbuttoning  his  garment  at 
the  throat  (thus  discovering  his  hair  shirt),  but  in  vain 
did  I  hasten  to  bring  him  all  sorts  of  refreshments.  He 
let  nothing  pass  his  lips.  I  knew  this  man  by  repute.  He 
had  already  performed  the  penance  of  Kana,  which  con- 
sisted in  fasting  daily  for  six  years,  and  avoiding  in  his 
nightly  breakfast  whatever  comes  from  a  living  being,  be  it 
flesh,  fish,  milk,  or  honey.  He  had  likewise  practised  the 
penance  of  Wandering,  never  staying  two  days  in  the  same 
place.  I  ran  to  fetch  my  father  to  force  the  poor  man  to 
eat,  but  when  I  returned  the  obstinate  ascetic  was  gone. 
We  followed  his  track,  and  found  him  lying  dead  on  the 
road.  We  afterwards  learnt  that  even  his  past  penances 
had  not  pacified  his  conscience,  and  he  wished  to  observe 
the  penance  of  Weighing,  which  proportions  specific  pun- 
ishments to  particular  sins.  But,  finding  by  careful  calcu- 
lation that  his  sins  were  too  numerous  to  be  thus  atoned 
for,  he  had  decided  to  starve  himself  to  death.  Although, 
as  I  say,  I  had  not  the  strength  for  such  asceticism,  I  ad- 
mired it  from  afar.  I  pored  over  the  Zolutr  and  the  Gates 
of  Licjlit  and  the  Tree  of  Life  (a  work  considered  too  holy 
to  be  printed),  and  I  puzzled  myself  with  the  mysteries  of 

227 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  Ten  Attributes,  and  the  mystic  symbolism  of  God's 
Beard,  whereof  every  hair  is  a  separate  clianuel  of  Divine 
grace  ;  and  once  I  came  to  comical  humiliation  from  my 
conceit  that  I  had  succeeded  by  force  of  incantations  in  be- 
coming invisible.  As  this  was  in  connection  with  my  wife, 
who  calmly  continued  looking  at  me  and  talking  to  me  long 
after  I  thought  I  had  disappeared,  I  am  reminded  to  say 
something  of  this  companion  of  my  boyish  years.  For, 
alas  !  it  was  she  that  presently  disappeared  from  my  vision, 
being  removed  by  God  in  her  fifteenth  year  ;  so  that  I,  who 
— being  a  first-born  son,  and  allowed  by  the  State  to  found 
a  family — had  been  married  to  her  by  our  fathers  when  I 
was  nine  and  she  was  eight,  had  not  much  cliance  of  off- 
spring by  her  ;  and,  indeed,  it  was  in  the  bearing  of  our 
first  child — a  still-born  boy — that  she  died,  despite  the  old 
family  amulet  originally  imported  from  Metz  and  made  by 
Rabbi  Eibeschiitz.  When,  after  her  death,  it  was  opened 
by  a  suspicious  partisan  of  Emden,  sure  enough  it  con- 
tained a  heretical  inscription  :  "  In  the  name  of  the  God 
of  Israel,  who  dwelleth  in  the  adornment  of  His  might, 
and  in  the  name  of  His  anointed  Sabbatai  Zevi,  through 
whose  wounds  healing  is  come  to  us,  I  adjure  all  spirits 
and  demons  not  to  injure  this  woman."  I  need  not  say 
how  this  contributed  to  the  heat  of  the  controversy  in  our 
own  little  village  ;  and  I  think,  indeed,  it  destroyed  my 
last  tincture  of  Sabbatianism.  Looking  back  now  from  the 
brink  of  tlie  grave,  I  see  how  all  is  written  in  the  book  of 
fate  :  for  had  not  my  Peninah  been  taken  from  me,  or  had 
I  accepted  one  of  the  many  daugliters  that  were  offered  me 
in  her  stead,  I  should  not  have  been  so  free  to  set  out  on 
the  pilgrimage  to  my  dear  Master,  by  whom  my  life  lias 
been  enriched  and  sanctified  beyond  its  utmost  deserving. 

At  first,  indeed,  the  loss  of  Peninah,  to  whom  I  had  be- 
come  quite   attached  —  for  she  honored  my  studies  and 

228 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

earned  our  bread,  and  was  pious  even  to  my  mother's  lik- 
ing— threw  me  into  a  fit  of  gloomy  brooding.  My  longing 
for  the  living  waters  and  the  green  pastures — partially  ap- 
peased by  Peninah's  love  as  she  grew  up — revived  and  be- 
came more  passionate.  I  sought  relief  in  my  old  Cabalistic 
studies,  and  essayed  again  to  perform  incantations,  think- 
ing in  some  vague  way  that  now  that  I  had  a  dear  friend 
among  the  dead,  she  would  help  me  to  master  the  divine 
mysteries.  Often  I  summoned  up  her  form,  but  when  I 
sti'ove  to  clasp  it,  it  faded  away,  so  that  I  was  left  dubious 
whether  I  had  succeeded.  I  had  wild  fits  of  weej)ing  both 
by  day  and  night,  not  of  grief  for  Peninah,  but  because  I 
seemed  somehow  to  live  in  a  great  desert  of  sand.  But 
even  had  I  known  what  I  desired,  I  could  not  have  opened 
my  heart  to  my  father-in-law  (in  whose  house,  many  versts 
from  my  native  village,  I  continued  to  reside),  for  he  was 
a  good,  plain  man,  who  expected  me  to  do  posthumous 
honor  to  his  daughter  by  my  Rabbinical  renown.  I  was 
indeed  long  since  qualified  as  a  Rabbi,  and  only  waited  for 
some  reputable  post. 

But  a  Rabbi  I  was  never  to  be.     For  it  was  then  that  the 
luminous  shadow  of  the  Baal  Shem  fell  upon  my  life. 


II 

There  came  to  our  village  one  winter  day  a  stranger 
who  had  neither  the  air  of  a  Sclinorrer  (beggar)  nor  of  an 
itinerant  preacher  ;  nor,  from  the  brief  time  he  spent  at 
the  Beth-IIamidrash,  where  I  sat  pursuing  droningly  my 
sterile  studies,  did  he  appear  to  be  a  scholar.  lie  was  a 
lean,  emaciated,  sickly  young  man,  but  his  eyes  had  the 
fire  of  a  lion's,  and  his  glance  was  as  a  god's.  When  he 
sj^oke  his  voice  pierced  you,  and  when  he  was  silent  his 

229 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

presence  filled  the  room.  From  Eliphaz  the  Pedlar  (who 
knew  everything  but  the  Law)  I  learnt  at  last  that  he  was 
an  emissary  of  Rabbi  Baer,  the  celebrated  chief  of  the 
Chassidim  (the  pious  ones). 

"  The  Chassidim  !"  I  cried.  "  They  died  out  with  Judah 
the  Saint." 

"  Nay,  this  is  a  new  order.  Have  you  not  heard  of  the 
Baal  Shem  ?" 

Now,  from  time  to  time  I  had  heard  vague  rumors  of  a 
new  wonder-working  saint  wlio  had  apparently  succeeded 
far  better  with  Cabalah  than  I,  Jind  had  even  gathered  a 
following,  but  the  new  and  obscure  movement  had  not 
touched  our  out-of-the-way  village,  which  was  wholly  given 
over  to  the  old  Sabbatian  controversy,  and  so  my  knowl- 
edge of  it  was  but  shadowy.  I  thought  it  better  to  feign 
absolute  ignorance,  and  thus  draw  out  the  Pedlar. 

"  Why,  the  Baal  Shem  by  much  penance  has  found  out 
the  Name  of  God,"  said  he  ;  *'and  by  it  he  works  his  will 
on  earth  and  in  heaven,  so  that  there  is  at  times  confusion 
in  the  other  world." 

"  And  is  his  name  Rabbi  Baer  ?" 

*'  No  ;  Rabbi  Baer  is  a  very  learned  man  who  has  joined 
him,  and  whom,  with  the  other  superiors  of  the  Order,  he 
has  initiated,  so  that  they,  too,  work  wonders.  I  chanced 
with  this  young  man  on  the  road,  and  he  told  me  that  his 
sect  therefore  explains  the  verse  in  the  Psalms,  '  Sing  unto 
God  a  new  song ;  His  praise  is  in  the  congregation  of 
Saints,'  in  the  following  wise  :  Since  God  surpasses  every 
finite  being.  His  praise  must  surpass  the  praise  of  every  such 
being.  Hitherto  the  praise  of  Him  consisted  in  ascribing 
miracles  to  Him,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  hidden  and  tlie 
future.  But  since  all  this  is  now  within  the  capacity  of 
the  saints  of  the  Order,  the  Almighty  has  no  longer  any 
pre-eminence  over  them   in  respect  of  the  supernatural — 

230 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

'His  praise  is  in  the  congregation  of  the  saints/ — and 
therefore  it  is  necessary  to  find  for  Him  some  new  praise 
— 'Sing  imto  God  a  new  song' — suitable  to  Him  alone." 

The  almost  blasphemous  boldness  of  this  conception, 
which  went  in  a  manner  further  even  than  the  Cabalah  or 
the  Sabbatians,  startled  me,  as  much  as  the  novelty  of  the 
exegesis  fascinated  me. 

''And  this  young  man  here — can  he  rule  the  upper  and 
lower  worlds  ?"  I  asked  eagerly,  mindful  of  my  own  mis- 
erable failures. 

"Assuredly  he  can  rule  the  loAver  worlds,"  replied  Eli- 
pliaz,  with  a  smile.  "  For  to  that  I  can  bear  witness,  see- 
ing that  I  have  stayed  with  him  in  a  town  where  there  is  a 
congregation  of  Chassidim,  which  was  in  his  hands  as  putty 
in  the  glazier's.  For,  you  see,  he  travels  from  place  to 
place  to  instruct  his  inferiors  in  the  society.  The  elders 
of  the  congregations,  venerable  and  learned  men,  trembled 
like  spaniels  before  him.  A  great  scholar  wlio  would  not 
accept  his  infallibility,  was  thrown  into  such  terror  by  his 
menacing  look  that  he  fell  into  a  violent  fever  and  died. 
And  this  I  witnessed  myself." 

"  But  there  are  no  Chassidim  in  our  place,"  said  I, 
trembling  myself,  half  with  excitement,  half  with  sympa- 
thetic terror.     "  AVhat  comes  he  to  do  here  ?" 

"  Why,  but  there  are  Chassidim,  and  there  will  be 
more  — "  He  stopped  suddenly.  "Nay,  I  spoke  at 
random." 

"  You  spoke  truly,"  said  I  sternly.  "But  speak  on — do 
not  fear  me." 

"  You  are  a  Rabbi  designate,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head. 

"  What  of  it  ?" 

"Know  you  not  that  everywhere  the  Rabbis  fight  des- 
perately against  the  new  Order,  that  they  curse  and  ex- 
communicate its  members." 

231 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  Wherefore  ?" 

*'  I  do  not  know.  These  things  are  too  high  for  me. 
Unless  it  be  that  this  Rabbi  Baer  has  cut  out  of  the  liturgy 
the  Piutim  (Penitential  Poems),  and  likewise  prays  after 
the  fashion  of  the  Portuguese  Jews."' 

*'Nay,"  I  said,  laughing.  "  If  you  were  not  such  a  man- 
of-the-earth,  you  would  know  that  to  cut  out  one  line  of 
one  prayer  is  enough  to  set  all  the  Rabbis  excommunicat- 
ing." 

"^ Ay,"  said  he;  "but  I  know  also  that  in  some  towns 
where  the  Chassidim  are  in  the  ascendant,  tiiey  depose  their 
Rabbis  and  appoint  a  minion  of  Baer  ijistead." 

"  Ha  !  so  that  is  what  the  young  man  is  after,"  said  I. 

"  I  didn't  say  so,"  said  the  Pedlar  nervously.  "  I  merely 
tell  you — though  I  should  not  have  said  anything — what 
the  young  man  told  me  to  beguile  the  way." 

''And  to  gain  yoii  over,"  I  put  in. 

"Nay,"  laughed  Eliphaz  ;  "I  feel  no  desire  for  Perfec- 
tion, which  is  the  catchword  of  these  gentry." 

Thus  put  upon  the  alert,  I  was  easily  able  to  detect  a 
secret  meeting  of  Chassidim  (consisting  of  that  minimum 
of  ten  Avhich  the  sect,  in  this  following  the  orthodox  prac- 
tice, considers  sufficient  nucleus  for  a  new  community), 
and  to  note  the  members  of  the  conventicle  as  they  went 
in  and  out  again. 

With  some  of  these  I  spake  privih^  but  though  I  allayed 
their  qualms  and  assured  them  I  was  no  spy  but  an  anxious 
inquirer  after  Truth,  desiring  notliing  more  vehemently 
than  Perfection,  yet  cither  they  would  not  im^iart  to  me 
the  true  secrets  of  the  Order,  or  they  lacked  intelligence  to 
make  clear  to  me  its  special  doctrine.  Nevertheless,  of 
the  personality  of  the  Founder  they  were  Avilling  to  speak, 
and  I  shall  here  set  down  the  story  of  his  life  as  I  learnt 
it  at  the  first  from  these  simple  enthusiasts.     It  may  be 

233 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

that,  as  I  write,  my  pen  unwittingly  adds  episodes  or  col- 
ors that  sank  into  my  mind  afterwards,  but  to  the  best  of 
my  power  I  will  set  down  here  the  story  as  it  was  told 
me,  and  as  it  passed  current  then — nay,  what  say  I  ? — as  it 
passes  current  now  in  the  Chassidic  communities. 


Ill 

Eabbi  Eliezer,  the  Baal  Shem's  father,  lived  in  Mol- 
davia, and  in  his  youth  he  was  captured  by  the  Tartars, 
but  his  wife  escaped.  He  was  taken  to  a  far  country  where 
no  Jew  lived,  and  was  sold  to  a  Prince.  Ho  soon  found 
favor  with  his  master  by  dint  of  faithful  service,  and  was 
made  steward  of  his  estates.  But  mindful  of  the  God  of 
Israel,  he  begged  the  Prince  to  excuse  him  from  work  on 
Saturdays,  which  the  Prince,  without  understanding,  grant- 
ed. Still  the  Rabbi  was  not  happy.  He  prepared  to  take 
flight,  but  a  vision  appeared  to  him,  bidding  him  tarry 
a  while  longer  with  the  Tartars.  Now  it  happened  that 
the  Prince  desired  some  favor  from  the  Viceroy's  counsel- 
lor, so  he  gave  the  Rabbi  to  the  counsellor  as  a  bribe. 

Rabbi  Eliezer  soon  found  favor  with  his  new  master.  He 
was  given  a  separate  chamber  to  live  in,  and  was  exempt 
from  manual  labor,  save  that  when  the  counsellor  came 
home  he  had  to  go  to  meet  him  with  a  vessel  of  water  to 
wash  his  feet,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  nobility. 
Hence  Rabbi  Eliezer  had  time  to  serve  his  God. 

It  came  to  pass  that  the  King  had  to  go  to  war,  so  he 
sent  for  the  counsellor,  but  the  counsellor  was  unable  to 
give  any  advice  to  the  point,  and  tlie  King  dismissed  him  in 
a  rage.  When  the  Rabbi  went  out  to  meet  him  with  the 
vessel  of  wate-r,  he  kicked  it  over  wrathfully.  Whereupon 
the  Rabbi  asked  him  why  he  was  in  such  poor  spirits.    The 

233 


D  K  E  A  ]\I  E  K  S    0  F    T  HE    d  II  E  T  T  0 

counsellor  remained  dumb;,  but  the  Eabbi  pressed  liim,  and 
then  he  unbosomed  himself. 

"I  will  j)Ya,y  to  God,"  said  Rabbi  Eliezer,  ''that  the 
right  plan  of  campaign  may  be  revealed  to  me." 

When  his  prayer  was  answered  he  communicated  the 
heavenly  counsel  to  his  master,  who  hastened  joyfully  to 
the  King.     The  King  was  equally  rejoiced  at  the  plan. 

''Such  counsel  cannot  come  from  a  human  being,"  he 
said.     "It  must  be  from  the  lips  of  a  magician." 

"Nay,"  said  the  counsellor;  "it  is  my  slave  who  has 
conceived  tlie  plan." 

The  King  forthwith  made  the  slave  an  oflicer  in  his  per- 
sonal retinue.  One  day  the  monarch  wished  to  capture  a 
fort  with  his  ships,  but  night  w^as  drawing  in,  and  he  said — 

"It  is  too  late.  We  shall  remain  here  overnight,  and 
to-morrow  we  shall  make  our  attack." 

But  the  Rabbi  was  told  from  Heaven  that  the  fort  was 
almost  impregnable  in  the  daytime.  "Send  against  it  at 
once,"  he  advised  the  King,  "a  ship  full  of  prisoners  con- 
demned to  death,  and  promise  them  their  lives  if  they 
capture  the  fort,  for  they,  having  nothing  to  lose,  are  the 
only  men  for  a  forlorn  hope." 

His  advice  was  taken,  and  the  desperadoes  destroyed  the 
fort.  Tiien  the  King  saw  that  the  Rabbi  was  a  godly 
man,  and  on  the  death  of  his  Viceroy  he  appointed  him  in 
his  stead,  and  married  him  to  the  late  Viceroy's  daughter. 

But  the  Rabbi,  remembering  his  marriage  vows  and  his 
duty  to  the  house  of  Israel,  made  her  his  wife  only  in 
name.  One  day  when  they  were  sitting  at  table  together, 
she  asked  him,  ''  Why  art  thou  so  distant  towards  me  ?" 

"Swear,"  he  answered,  "that  thou  wilt  never  tell  a 
soul,  and  thou  shalt  hear  the  truth." 

On  her  promising,  he  told  her  that  he  was  a  Jew. 
Thei'eupon  she  sent  him  away  secretly,  and  gave  him  gold 

234 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

and  jewels,  of  which,  however,  he  was  robbed  on  his  jour- 
ney home. 

After  he  had  returned  to  his  joyful  wife,  who,  though 
she  had  given  him  uj)  for  dead,  had  never  ceased  to  mourn 
for  him,  an  angel  appeared  unto  him  and  said,  "  By  reason 
of  thy  good  deeds,  and  thy  unshaken  fidelity  to  the  God  of 
Israel  throughout  all  thy  sufferings  and  temptations,  thou 
shalt  have  a  son  who  will  be  a  light  to  enlighten  the  eyes 
of  all  Israel.  Therefore  shall  his  name  be  Israel,  for  in 
him  shall  the  Avords  of  scripture  be  fulfilled  !  'Thou  art 
my  servant  Israel,  in  whom  I  will  be  glorified.'" 

But  the  Eabbi  and  his  wife  grew  older  and  older,  and 
there  Avas  no  son  born  unto  them.  But  when  they  wei'e 
a  hundred  years  old,  the  woman  conceived  and  bore  a  son, 
who  Avas  called  Israel,  and  afterwards  known  of  men  as  the 
Master  of  the  Name — the  Baal  Shem.  And  this  was  in 
the  mystic  year  5459,  whereof  the  properties  of  the  figures 
are  most  wonderful,  inasmuch  as  the  five  Avhicli  is  the  sym- 
bol of  the  Pentagon  is  the  Key  of  the  Avhole,  and  comes 
also  from  subtracting  the  first  tAvo  from  the  last  two,  and 
Avhereas  the  first  multi^^lied  by  the  third  is  the  square  of 
five,  so  is  the  second  multiplied  by  the  fourth  the  square 
of  six,  and  likeAvise  the  first  added  to  the  third  is  ten, 
Avhich  is  the  number  of  the  Commandments,  and  the 
second  added  to  the  fourth  is  thirteen,  Avhicli  is  the  num- 
ber of  the  Creeds.  And  even  according  to  the  Christians 
Avho  count  this  year  as  1700,  it  is  the  beginning  of  a  new 
era. 

The  child's  mother  died  soon  after  he  Avas  Avcaned,  and 
Eabbi  Eliezer  Avas  not  long  in  following  her  to  the  grave. 
On  his  death-bed  he  took  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  bless- 
ed him,  saying,  "Though  I  am  denied  the  blessing  of  bring- 
ing thee  up,  always  think  of  God  and  fear  not,  for  he  Avill 
ever  be  Avith  thee."     So  saying,  he  gave  up  the  ghost. 

235 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Now  tlie  people  of  Ukoi?  in  Bukowina,  where  tlie  Master 
was  boru,  though  they  knew  nothing  of  his  glorious  des- 
tiny, yet  carefully  tended  him  for  the  sake  of  his  honored 
father.  They  engaged  for  him  a  teacher  of  the  Holy  Law, 
but  though  in  the  beginnings  he  seemed  to  learn  with  rare 
ease,  he  often  slipped  away  into  the  forest  that  bordered 
the  village,  and  there  his  teacher  Avould  find  him  after  a 
long  search,  sitting  fearlessly  in  some  leafy  glade.  His 
dislike  for  the  customary  indoor  studies  became  so  marked 
that  at  last  he  was  set  down  as  stupid,  and  allowed  to  fol-. 
low  his  own  vagrant  courses.  No  one  understood  that  the 
spirits  of  Heaven  were  his  teachers. 

As  he  grew  older,  he  was  given  a  post  as  assistant  to  the 
school-master,  but  his  office  was  not  to  teach — how  could 
such  an  ignorant  lad  teach  ?— but  to  escort  the  children 
from  their  homes  to  the  synagogue  and  thence  to  the 
school.  On  the  way  he  taught  them  solemn  hymns,  which 
he  had  composed  and  which  he  sang  with  them,  and  the 
sweet  voices  of  the  children  reached  Heaven.  And  God 
was  as  pleased  with  them  as  with  the  singing  of  the  Levites 
in  the  Temple,  and  it  was  a  pleasing  time  in  Heaven.  But 
Satan,  fearing  lest  his  power  on  earth  would  thereby  be 
lessened,  disguised  himself  as  a  werwolf,  which  used  to 
appear  before  the  childish  procession  and  put  it  to  flight. 
The  parents  thereupon  kept  their  children  at  home,  and 
the  services  of  song  were  silenced.  But  Israel,  recalling 
his  father's  dying  counsel,  persuaded  the  parents  to  entrust 
the  children  to  him  once  more.  Again  the  werwolf  bound- 
ed upon  the  singing  children,  but  Israel  routed  him  with 
his  club. 

In  his  fourteenth  year  the  supposed  unlettered  Israel 
was  appointed  caretaker  in  the  Beth-IIamidrash,  where  the 
scholars  considered  him  the  proverbial  ignoramus  who 
"spells  Noah  with  seven  mistakes."     He  dozed  about  the 

236 


THE    MASTEE    OF    THE    NAME 

building  all  day  and  got  a  new  reputation  for  laziness,  but 
at  night  when  the  school-room  was  empty  and  the  students 
asleep,  Israel  took  down  the  Holy  Books  ;  and  all  the  long 
night  he  pored  over  the  sacred  words.  Now  it  came  to 
pass  that,  in  a  far-off  city,  a  certain  holy  man.  Rabbi  Adam, 
who  had  in  his  possession  celestial  manuscripts  (which  had 
only  before  him  been  revealed  to  Abraham  our  Father,  and  to 
Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun)  told  his  son  on  his  death-bed  tliat 
he  was  unworthy  to  inherit  them.  But  he  was  to  go  to 
the  town  of  Ukop  and  deliver  them  to  a  certain  man  named 
Israel  whom  he  would  find  there,  and  who  would  instruct 
him,  if  he  proved  himself  fit.  After  his  father's  death  the 
son  duly  journeyed  to  Ukop  and  lodged  with  the  treasurer 
of  the  synagogue,  who  one  day  asked  him  the  purpose  of 
his  visit. 

"  I  am  in  search  of  a  wife,''  said  he. 

At  once  many  were  the  suitors  for  his  hand,  and  finally 
he  agreed  with  a  rich  man  to  bestow  it  on  his  daughter. 
After  the  wedding  he  pursued  his  search  for  the  heir  to 
the  manuscripts,  and,  on  seeing  the  caretaker  of  the  Beth- 
Hamidrash,  concluded  he  must  be  the  man.  He  induced 
his  father-in-law  to  have  a  compartment  partitioned  off 
in  the  school,  wherein  he  could  study  by  himself,  and  to 
monopolize  the  services  of  the  caretaker  to  attend  upon 
him. 

But  when  the  student  fell  asleep,  Israel  began  to  study 
according  to  his  wont ;  and  when  he  fell  asleep,  his  em- 
ployer took  one  page  of  the  mystic  manuscript  and  placed 
it  near  him.  When  Israel  woke  up  and  saw  the  page  he 
was  greatly  moved,  and  hid  it.  Next  day  the  man  again 
placed  a  page  near  the  sleeping  Israel,  who  again  hid  it  on 
awaking.  Then  was  the  man  convinced  that  he  had  found 
the  inheritor  of  the  spiritual  secrets,  and  he  told  him  the 
whole  story  and  offered  all  the  manuscripts  on   conditiun 

237 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Israel  should  become  his  teacher.  Israel  assented,  on  con- 
dition that  he  should  outwardly  remain  his  attendant  as 
before,  and  that  his  celestial  knowledge  should  not  be 
bruited  abroad.  The  man  now  asked  his  father-in-law  to 
give  him  a  room  outside  the  town,  as  his  studies  demanded 
still  more  solitude.  He  needed  none  but  Israel  to  attend 
him.  His  father-in-law  gave  him  all  he  asked  for,  rejoic- 
ing to  have  found  so  studious  a  son-iu-law.  As  their 
secret  studies  grew  deeper,  the  pupil  begged  his  master  to 
call  down  the  Archangel  of  the  Law  for  him  to  study 
withal.  But  Rabbi  Israel  dissuaded  him,  saying  the  in- 
cantation was  a  very  dangerous  one,  the  slightest  mistake 
might  be  fatal.  After  a  time  the  man  returned  to  the 
request,  and  his  master  yielded.  Both  fasted  from  one 
week's  end  to  the  other  and  purified  themselves,  and  then 
went  through  all  the  ceremony  of  summoning  the  Archan- 
gel of  the  Law,  but  at  the  crucial  moment  of  the  invoca- 
tion Rabbi  Israel  cried  out,  "We  have  made  a  slip.  The 
Angel  of  Fire  is  coming  instead.  He  will  burn  up  the 
town.  Run  and  tell  the  people  to  quit  their  dwellings  and 
snatch  up  their  most  precious  things." 

Thus  did  Rabbi  Israel's  pupil  leap  to  consideration  in 
the  town,  being  by  many  considered  a  man  of  miracles, 
and  the  saviour  of  their  lives  and  treasures.  But  he  still 
hankered  after  the  Archangel  of  the  Law,  and  again  in- 
duced Rabbi  Israel  to  invoke  him.  Again  they  purified 
and  prepared  themselves,  but  Rabbi  Israel  cried  out — 

"  Alas  !  death  has  been  decreed  us,  unless  we  remain 
awake  all  this  night." 

They  sat,  mutually  vigilant  against  sleep,  but  at  last  tow- 
ards dawn  the  fated  man's  eyelids  closed,  and  he  fell  into 
that  sleep  from  which  there  could  be  no  waking. 

So  the  Baal  Shem  departed  thence,  and  settled  in  a  little 
town  near  Brody,  and  became  a  teacher  of  children,  in  his 

238 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

love  for  the  little  ones.  Small  was  his  wage  and  scanty 
his  fare,  and  the  room  in  which  he  lodged  he  could  only 
afford  because  it  was  haunted.  When  the  Baal  Shem  en- 
tered to  take  possession,  the  landlord  peeping  timidly  from 
the  threshold  saw  a  giant  Cossack  leaning  against  the 
mantelpiece.  But  as  the  new  tenant  advanced,  the  figure 
of  the  Cossack  dwindled  and  dwindled,  till  at  last  the 
dwarf  disa^jpeared. 

Though  Israel  did  not  yet  reveal  himself,  being  engaged 
in  wrestling  with  the  divine  mysteries,  and  having  made 
oath  in  the  upper  spheres  not  to  use  the  power  of  the 
Name  till  he  was  forty  years  old  save  four,  and  though 
outwardly  he  was  clad  in  coarse  garments  and  broken 
boots,  yet  all  his  fellow -townsmen  felt  the  purity  and 
probity  that  seemed  to  emanate  from  him.  He  was  seen 
to  perform  ablutions  far  oftener  than  of  custom  ;  and  in 
disputes  men  came  to  him  as  umpire,  nor  was  even  the 
losing  party  ever  dissatisfied  with  his  decision.  When 
there  was  no  rain  and  the  heathen  population  had  gone  in 
a  sacred  procession,  Avitli  the  priests  carrying  their  gods, 
all  in  vain,  Israel  told  the  Rabbi  to  assemble  the  Jewish 
congregation  in  the  synagogue  for  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer.  The  heathen  asked  them  why  the  service  lasted 
so  long  that  day,  and,  being  told,  tliey  laughed  mockingly. 
"What !  shall  your  God  avail  when  we  have  carried  ours 
in  vain  ?"     But  the  rain  fell  that  day. 

And  so  the  fame  of  Israel  grew  and  reached  some  people 
even  in  lirody. 

One  day  in  that  great  centre  of  learning  the  learned 
Rabbi  Abraham,  having  a  difference  with  a  man,  was  per- 
suaded Ijy  the  latter  to  make  a  journey  to  Rabbi  Israel  for 
arbitration.  When  they  appeared  before  him,  the  Baal 
Shem  knew  by  divine  light  that  Rabbi  Abraham's  daughter 
would  be  his   wife.     However,  he   said   nothing   but   de- 

239 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

livered  adequate  judgment,  according  to  Maimonides.  So 
delighted  was  the  old  Rabbi  with  this  stranger's  learning 
that  he  said  : 

"I  have  a  daughter  who  has  been  divorced.  I  should 
love  to  marry  thee  to  her." 

*' I  desire  naught  better,"  said  the  Baal  Shem,  "for  I 
know  her  soul  is  noble.  But  I  must  make  it  a  condition 
that  in  the  betrothal  contract  no  learned  titles  are  ap- 
pended to  my  name.  Let  it  be  simply  Israel  the  son  of 
Eliezer." 

While  returning  to  Brody,  Rabbi  Abraham  died.  Isow 
his  son,  Rabbi  Gershon,  was  the  chief  of  the  Judgment 
Counsel,  and  a  scholar  of  great  renown  ;  and  when  he 
found  among  the  paj^ers  of  his  dead  father  a  deed  of  his 
sister's  betrothal  to  a  man  devoid  of  all  titles  of  learning 
he  was  astonished  and  shocked. 

He  called  his  sister  to  him:  ''Art  thou  aware  thou  art 
betrothed  again  ?"  said  he. 

"  Nay,'"'  she  replied  ;  "  how  so  ?" 

"Our  father — peace  be  upon  him — hath  betrothed  thee 
to  one  Israel  the  son  of  Eliezer." 

"Is  it  so  ?     Then  I  must  needs  marry  him." 

"Marry  him  !     But  who  is  this  Israel  ?" 

"How  should  I  know  ?" 

"  But  he  is  a  man  of  the  earth.  He  hath  not  one 
single  title  of  honor." 

"  What  our  father  did  was  right." 

"What?"  persisted  the  outraged  brother ;  "  thou,  my 
sister,  of  so  renowned  a  family,  who  couldst  clioose  from 
the  most  learned  young  men,  thou  wouldst  marry  so  far 
beneath  thee." 

"So  my  father  hath  arranged." 

"Well,  thank  Heaven,  thou  wilt  never  discover  who  and 
where  this  ignoramus  of  an  Israel  is." 

240 


THE    MAS  TEE    OF    THE    NAME 

"  There  is  a,  date  on  the  contract/'  said  his  sister  calmly  ; 
''at  the  stipulated  time  my  husband  will  come  and  claim 
me." 

When  the  appointed  wedding-day  drew  nigh,  the  Baal 
Shem  intimated  to  the  people  of  his  town  that  he  was 
going  to  leave  them.  They  begged  him  to  remain  with 
their  children,  and  offered  him  a  higher  wage.  But  he 
refused  and  left  the  place.  And  when  he  came  near  to 
Brody,  he  disguised  himself  as  a  peasant  in  a  short  jacket 
and  white  girdle.  And  he  appeared  at  the  door  of  the 
House  of  Judgment  while  Eabbi  Gershon  was  deciding  a 
high  matter.  When  the  Judge  caught  sight  of  him,  he 
imagined  it  was  a  poor  man  asking  alms.  But  the  peasant 
said  he  had  a  secret  to  reveal  to  him.  The  Judge  took 
him  into  another  room,  where  Israel  showed  him  his  copy 
of  the  betrothal  contract.  Kabbi  Gershon  went  home  in 
alarm  and  told  his  sister  that  the  claimant  was  come. 
"  AVhatever  our  father  —  peace  be  upon  him  —  did  Avas 
right,"  she  replied;  "perchance  pious  children  will  be  the 
offspring  of  this  union."  Eabbi  Gershon,  still  smarting 
under  this  dishonor  to  the  family,  reluctantly  fixed  the 
Avedding-day.  Before  the  ceremony  Israel  sought  a  secret 
interview  with  his  bride,  and  revealed  himself  and  his  mis- 
sion to  her. 

"  Many  hardships  shall  we  endure  together,  humble 
shall  be  our  dwelling,  and  by  the  sweat  of  our  brow  shall 
we  earn  our  bread.  Thou  who  art  the  daughter  of  a  great 
Eabbi,  and  reared  in  every  luxury,  hast  thou  courage  to 
face  this  future  with  me  ?" 

"1  ask  no  better,  she  replied.  ''I  had  faith  in  my  fa- 
ther's judgment,  and  now  am  I  rewarded." 

Tlie  Baal  Shem's  voice  trembled  with  tenderness.  "God 
bless  thee,"  he  said.  "  Our  sufferings  shall  be  but  for  a 
time." 

Q  241 


DREAMERS    OF   THE    GHETTO 

After  the  wedding  Rabbi  Gerslioii  wished  to  instruct  his 
new  brother-in-hiw,  who  had,  of  course,  taken  up  his  abode 
in  his  house.  But  the  Baal  Shem  feigned  to  be  difficult 
of  understanding,  and  at  length,  in  despair,  the  Judge 
went  stormily  to  his  sister  and  cried  out :  "  See  how  we 
are  shamed  and  disgraced  through  thy  husband,  Avho  ar- 
gues ignorantly  against  our  most  renowned  teachers.  I 
cannot  endure  the  dishonor  any  longer.  Look  thou,  sister 
mine,  I  give  thee  the  alternative — either  divorce  this  igno- 
ramus or  let  me  buy  thee  a  horse  and  cart  and  send  you 
both  packing  from  the  place." 

"We  will  go,"  she  said  simply. 

They  jogged  along  in  their  cart  till  they  came  far  from 
Jews  and  remote  even  from  men.  And  there  in  a  lonely 
spot,  on  one  of  the  spurs  of  the  Carpathian  Mountains, 
honeycombed  by  caves  and  thick  with  trees,  the  couple 
made  their  home.  Here  Israel  gave  himself  up  to  prayer 
and  contemplation.  For  his  livelihood  he  dng  lime  in  tlie 
ravines,  and  his  wife  took  it  in  the  horse  and  cart,  and  sold 
it  in  the  nearest  town,  bringing  back  flour.  When  the 
Baal  Shem  was  not  fasting,  which  was  rarely,  he  mixed 
this  flour  with  water  and  earth,  and  baked  it  in  the  sun. 
That  was  his  only  fare.  What  else  needed  he — he,  whose 
greatest  joy  was  to  malvc  holy  ablutions  in  the  mountain 
waters,  or  to  climb  the  summits  of  the  mountains  and  to 
wander  about  wrapt  in  the  thought  of  God  ?  Once  the 
robbers  who  lurked  in  the  caves  saw  him  approaching  a 
precipice,  his  ecstatic  gaze  heavenwards.  They  halloed  to 
liim,  but  his  ears  were  lent  to  the  celestial  harmonies. 
Then  they  held  their  breath,  waiting  for  him  to  be  dashed 
to  pieces.  But  the  opposite  mountain  came  to  him.  And 
then  the  two  mountains  separated,  re-uniting  again  for  his 
return.  After  tliis  the  robbers  revered  him  as  a  holy  man, 
and  they,  too,  brought  him  their  disputes.     And  the  Baal 

2i2 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

Shem  did  not  refuse  the  office, — "For,"  said  he,  ''even 
amid  the  unjust,  justice  must  rule."  But  one  of  the  gang 
whom  lie  had  decided  against  sought  to  shiy  him  as  he 
slept.  An  invisible  hand  held  back  the  axe  as  it  was  raised 
to  strike  the  fatal  blow,  and  belabored  the  rogue  soundly, 
till  he  fell  prone,  covered  with  blood. 

Thus  passed  seven  years  of  labor  and  spiritual  vision. 
And  the  Baal  Shem  learned  the  language  of  birds  and 
beasts  and  trees,  and  the  healing  properties  of  herbs  and 
simples  ;  and  he  redeemed  souls  that  had  been  placed  for 
their  sins  in  frogs  and  toads  and  loathsome  creatures  of  the 
mountains. 

But  at  length  Rabbi  Gershon  was  sorry  for  his  sister, 
and  repented  him  of  his  harshness.  lie  sought  out  the  in- 
domitable twain,  and  brought  them  back  to  Brody,  and  in- 
stalled tliem  in  an  apartment  near  him,  and  made  the  Baal 
Shem  his  coachman.  But  his  brother-in-law  soon  disgusted 
him  again,  for,  one  day,  when  they  were  driving  together, 
and  Rabbi  Gerslion  had  fallen  asleep,  the  Baal  Shem,  whose 
pure  thoughts  had  ascended  on  high,  let  the  vehicle  tumble 
into  a  ditch.  "This  fellow  is  good  neither  for  heaven  nor 
earth,"  cried  Rabbi  Gershon. 

He  again  begged  his  sister  to  get  a  divorce,  but  she  re- 
mained steadfast  and  silent.  In  desperation  Rabbi  Gershon 
asked  a  friend  of  his.  Rabbi  Mekatier,  to  take  Israel  to  a 
mad  woman,  who  told  people  their  good  and  bad  qualities, 
and  whose  stigmatization,  he  thought,  might  have  an  clfect 
upon  his  graceless  brother-in-law.  The  audience-chamber 
of  the  possessed  creature  was  crowded,  and,  as  each  visitor 
entered,  a  voice  issued  from  her  lips  greeting  them  accord- 
ing to  their  qualities.  As  Rabbi  Mekatier  came  in  :  "  Wel- 
come, holy  and  pure  one,"  she  cried,  and  so  to  many  others. 
The  Baal  Shem  entered  last.  "  Welcome,  Rabbi  Israel," 
cried  the  voice  ;  "  thou  deemest  I  fear  thee,  but  I  fear  thee 

243 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

not.  For  I  know  of  a  surety  that  thou  hast  boon  sworn  in 
Heaven  not  to  make  use  of  the  Xame,  not  till  thy  thirty- 
sixth  year." 

"  Of  what  speakest  thou  ?"  asked  the  people  in  bewilder- 
ment. 

Then  the  woman  repeated  what  she  had  said,  but  the 
people  understood  her  not.  And  she  went  on  repeating 
the  words.     At  length  Rabbi  Israel  rebuked  her  sharply. 

"  Silence,  or  I  will  appoint  a  Council  of  Judgment  who 
will  empower  me  to  drive  thee  out  of  this  woman.  I  ask 
thee,  therefore,  to  depart  from  this  woman  of  thine  own 
accord,  and  we  will  pray  for  thee." 

So  the  spirit  promised  to  depart. 

Then  the  Baal  Shem  said  :  "Who  art  thou  ?" 

"•'I  cannot  tell  thee  now,"  replied  the  spirit.  ''It  will 
disgrace  my  children  who  are  in  the  room.  If  they  de- 
part, I  will  tell  thee." 

Thereupon  all  the  people  departed  in  haste  and  spread 
the  news  that  Israel  could  cast  out  devils.  The  respect  for 
liim  grew,  but  Rabbi  Gershon  was  incredulous,  saying  such 
things  could  only  be  done  by  a  scholar  ;  and,  becoming 
again  out  of  patience  with  this  ignorant  incubus  upon  liis 
lionorable  house,  he  bought  his  sister  a  small  inn  in  a  vil- 
lage far  away  on  the  border  of  a  forest.  While  his  wife 
managed  the  inn,  the  Baal  Shem  l)uilt  himself  a  hut  in  the 
forest  and  retired  there  to  study  tlie  Law  day  and  night ; 
only  on  the  Sabbat^h  did  he  go  out,  dressed  in  white,  and 
many  ablutions  did  he  make,  as  becomes  the  pure  and  the 
holy. 

It  was  here  that  he  reached  his  thirty  -  sixth  year,  but 
still  ho  did  not  reveal  himself,  for  he  had  not  meditated 
sutHciently  nor  found  out  his  first  apostles.  But  in  his 
forty-second  year  he  began  freely  to  speak  and  to  gather 
disciples,   wandering   about    Podolia   and   Wallachia,   and 

244 


THE    MASTEE    OF    THE    NAME 

teaching  by  discourse  aud  parable,  crossing  streams  by 
spreading  his  mantle  upon  the  waters,  and  saving  his  dis- 
ciples from  freezing  in  the  wintry  frosts  by  toucbing  the 
trees  with  his  finger-tips,  so  that  they  burnt  without  being 
consumed. 

And  now  he  was  become  the  chief  of  a  mighty  sect,  that 
ramified  everywhere,  and  the  head  of  a  school  of  proi^hets 
and  wonder-workers  to  whom  he  had  unveiled  the  secret  of 
the  Name. 

IV 

So  strange  and  marvellous  a  story,  so  full  of  minute 
detail,  and  for  the  possible  truth  of  which  my  Cabalistic 
studies  had  prepared  me,  roused  in  me  again  the  ever- 
smouldering  hope  of  becoming  expert  in  these  traditional 
practices  of  our  nation.  AYhy  should  not  I,  like  other 
Eabbis,  have  the  key  of  the  worlds  ?  Why  should  not  I, 
too,  fashion  a  fine  fat  calf  on  the  Friday  and  eat  it  for  my 
Sabbath  meal  ?  or  create  a  soulless  monster  to  Avait  upon 
me  hand  and  foot  ?  The  Talmudical  subtleties  had  kept 
me  long  enough  wandering  in  a  blind  maze.  I  would  go 
forth  in  search  of  light.  I  would  gird  uj)  my  loins  and 
take  my  staff  in  my  hand  and  seek  the  fountain-head  of 
wisdom,  the  great  Master  of  the  Name  himself;  I  would 
fall  at  his  feet  and  beseech  him  to  receive  me  among  his 
pupils. 

Travelling  was  easy  enough  :  —  in  every  town  a  Beth- 
Hamidrash  into  which  the  wanderer  would  first  make  his 
way ;  in  every  town  hospitable  entertainers  who  would 
board  and  lodge  a  man  of  learning  like  myself,  rejoicing  at 
the  honor.  Even  in  the  poorest  villages  I  might  count 
upon  black  bread  and  sheep's  cheese  and  a  bed  of  fir 
branches.     But  when  I  came  to  make  inquiries  I  found 

245 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

that  tlie  village  in  Volhynia,  which  Rabbi  Baer  had  made 
his  centre,  was  far  nearer  than  the  forest  where  the  Master, 
remote  and  inaccessible,  retired  to  meditate  after  his  mis- 
sionary wanderings  ;  na}^  tliat  my  footsteps  miist  needs 
pass  through  this  Mizricz,  the  political  stronghold  of 
Chassidism.  This  discovery  did  not  displease  me,  for  I 
felt  that  thus  I  should  reach  the  Master  better  prepared. 
In  my  impatience  I  could  scarcely  wait  for  the  roads  to  be- 
come passable,  and  it  was  still  the  skirt  of  winter  Avhen, 
with  a  light  heart  and  a  wild  hope,  I  set  my  face  for  the 
wild  ravines  of  Severia  and  the  dreary  steppes  of  the 
Ukraine.  Very  soon  I  came  into  parts  where  the  question 
of  the  Chassidim  Avas  alive  and  burning,  and  indeed  into 
towns  where  it  had  a  greater  living  interest  than  the  quarrel 
of  the  amulets.  And  in  these  regions  the  rumor  of  the 
Baal  Shem  began  to  thicken.  There  was  not  a  village  of 
log-houses  but  buzzed  with  its  own  miracle.  Everywhere 
did  I  hear  of  healings  of  the  sick  and  driving  out  of 
demons  and  summoning  of  spirits,  and  the  face  of  the 
Master  shining. 

Of  these  strange  stories  I  will  set  down  but  two.  The 
Master  and  his  retinue  were  riding  on  a  journey,  and  came 
to  a  strange  road.  His  disciples  did  not  know  the  way, 
and  the  party  went  astray  and  wandered  about  till  Wednes- 
day night,  when  they  put  up  at  an  inn.  In  the  morning 
the  host  asked  who  they  were. 

"  I  am  a  wandering  preacher,"  replied  the  Baal  Shem. 
**And  I  wish  to  get  to  the  capital  before  the  Sabbath,  for 
I  have  heard  that  the  richest  man  in  the  town  is  marrying 
there  on  the  Friday,  and  perchance  I  may  preach  at  the 
wedding." 

*'That  thou  wilt  never  do,"  said  tiie  innkeeper,  **for  the 
capital  is  a  week's  journey." 

The  Master  smiled.     "  Our  horses  are  good,"  he  said. 

24G 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

Tlie  innkeeper  shook  his  head  :  ''Impossible,  unless  you 
fly  through  the  air,"  he  said.  But,  presently  remembering 
that  he  himself  had  to  go  some  leagues  on  the  road  to  the 
capital,  he  begged  permission  to  join  the  party,  Avhich  was 
cheerfully  given. 

The  Master  then  retired  to  say  his  morning  prayers,  and 
gave  orders  for  breakfast  and  dinner. 

"  But  why  art  thou  delaying  ?"  inquired  the  innkeejoer. 
"  How  can  you  arrive  for  Sabbath  ?" 

The  Baal  Shem  did  uot,  however,  abate  one  jot  of  his 
prayers,  and  it  was  not  till  eve  that  they  set  out.  All 
through  the  night  they  travelled,  and  in  the  morning  the 
innkeeper  found  himself,  to  his  confusion,  not  where  he 
had  reckoned  to  part  with  the  others,  but  in  the  environs 
of  the  capital.  The  Baal  Shem  took  up  his  quarters  in  a 
humble  district,  while  the  dazed  innkeeper  wandered  about 
the  streets  of  the  great  city,  undecided  what  to  do.  All  at 
once  he  heard  screams  and  saw  a  commotion,  and  people 
began  to  run  to  and  fro  ;  and  then  he  saw  men  carrying  a 
beautiful  dead  girl  in  bridal  costume,  and  in  'the  midst  of 
them  one,  who  by  his  Sabbath  garments  and  his  white 
shoes  was  evidently  the  bridegroom,  mazed  and  ghastly 
pale.  He  heard  people  telling  one  another  that  death  had 
seized  her  as  she  stood  under  the  canopy,  before  the  word 
could  be  said  or  the  glass  broken  that  should  have  made 
her  the  wife  of  the  richest  man  in  the  capital.  The  inn- 
keeper ran  towards  them  and  he  said — 

"Do  uot.  despair.  Last  night  I  was  hundreds  of  miles 
from  here.  I  came  here  Avith  a  great  wonder-worker. 
Mayhap  he  will  be  able  to  help  you."  The  bridegroom 
went  with  him  to  seek  out  the  Baal  Shem  at  the  far  end  of 
the  town,  and  offered  a  vast  sum  for  the  restoration  of  his 
beloved. 

"Nay,  keep  thy  money,"  said  the  Master.    And  he  fared 

247 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

back  with  the  twain  to  sec  the  corpse,  which  had  been  Laid 
in  an  apartment. 

As  soon  as  he  had  looked  npon  the  face  of  the  bride  he 
said:  "Let  a  grave  be  dug;  and  let  the  washers  prej)are 
her  for  the  tomb.  And  then  let  her  be  reclad  in  her  mar- 
riage vestments.  I  will  go  to  the  graveyard  and  await  her 
coming.'^ 

When  her  body  was  brought,  he  told  the  bearers  to  lay 
her  in  the  grave,  earth  to  earth.  The  onlookers  wept  to 
see  how,  for  once,  that  shroud  which  every  bride  wore  over 
her  fur  robe  was  become  a  fitting  ornament,  and  how  the 
marvellous  fairness  of  the  dead  face,  crowned  with  its 
myrtle  garlands,  gleamed  through  the  bridal  veil.  The 
Master  placed  two  stalwart  men  w'ith  their  faces  towards 
the  grave,  and  bade  them,  the  instant  they  noted  any 
change  in  her  face,  take  her  out.  Then  ho  leaned  upon 
his  staff  and  gazed  at  the  dead  face.  And  those  who  were 
near  said  his  face  shone  with  a  heavenly  light  of  pity  ;  but 
his  brow  was  Avrinkled  as  though  in  grave  deliberation. 
The  moments  passed,  but  the  Master  remained  as  motion- 
less as  she  in  the  grave.  And  all  the  people  stood  around 
in  awed  suspense,  scarce  daring  to  whisper.  Suddenly  a 
slight  flush  appeared  in  the  dead  face.  The  Baal  Shem 
gave  a  signal,  the  two  men  lifted  out  the  bride  from  the 
raw  earth,  and  he  cried  :  '^  Get  on  w^ith  the  wedding,"  and 
walked  away. 

"  Nay,  come  with  us,"  besought  the  weeping  bridegroom, 
falling  at  liis  feet  and  kissing  the  hem  of  his  garment. 
**Who  but  thou  should  perform  the  ceremony  ?" 

So  the  throng  swept  back  towards  the  synagogue  with 
many  rejoicings  and  songs,  and  the  extinguished  torches 
wore  religlited,  and  the  music  struck  up  again,  and  the 
bride  walked,  escorted  by  her  friends,  seemingly  uncon- 
scious that  this  Avas  not  the  same  joyous  procession  which 

248 


THE    MASTEE    OF    THE    NAME 

had  set  out  in  the  morning,  or  that  she  had  already  stood 
under  the  canop3^  But,  when  they  were  arrived  in  the 
synagogue  courtyard,  and  the  Baal  Shem  began  the  cere- 
mony, then  as  she  heard  his  voice,  a  strange  light  of  recol- 
lection leapt  into  her  face.  She  tore  off  her  veil  and 
cried  •  "  This  is  the  man  that  drew  me  out  of  the  cold 
grave." 

"  Be  silent,"  reprimanded  the  Master  sternly,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  the  wedding  formulas.  At  the  wedding  feast, 
the  bride's  friends  asked  her  Avhat  she  had  seen  and  heard 
in  the  tomb.  Whereupon  she  gave  them  the  explanation 
of  the  whole  matter.  The  former  wife  of  her  rich  bride- 
groom Avas  the  bride's  aunt,  and  when  she  fell  ill  and  knew 
she  would  die,  she  felt  that  he  would  assuredly  marry  this 
young  girl — his  ward, — who  was  brought  up  in  his  house. 
She  became  madly  jealous,  and,  calling  her  husband  to  her 
death -bed,  she  made  him  take  an  oath  not  to  marry  the 
girl.  Nor  would  she  trust  him  till  he  had  sworn  with  his 
right  hand  in  hers  and  his  left  hand  in  the  girl's.  After 
the  wife's  death  neither  of  the  parties  to  this  oath  kept 
faith,  but  wished  to  marry  the  other.  Wherefore  as  they 
stood  under  the  canopy  at  the  marriage  celebration  the 
dead  wife,  seen  only  of  the  bride,  killed  her.  While  she 
was  lying  in  the  grave,  the  Baal  Shem  was  occupied  in 
weighing  the  matter,  both  she  and  the  jealous  woman  hav- 
ing to  state  their  case  ;  and  he  decided  that  the  living  were 
in  the  right,  and  had  only  given  their  promise  to  the  dead 
wife  by  force  and  out  of  compassion.  And  so  he  exclaimed, 
"Get  on  with  the  wedding!"  The  memory  of  this  trial 
in  the  world  of  spirits  had  clean  passed  from  her  till  she 
heard  the  Master's  voice  beginning  to  read  the  marriage 
service,  when  she  cried  out,  and  tore  off  her  veil  to  see  him 
plainly. 

The  Baal  Shem  spent  the  Sabbath  in  the  capital ;  and  on 

349 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Sunday  he  was  escorted  out  of  the  town  with  a  great  mul- 
titude doing  him  honor.  And  afterwards  it  was  found 
that  all  the  sick  people,  whose  names  happened  to  be  scrib- 
bled by  their  relatives  on  the  grave-stone  which  his  robe 
had  brushed,  recovered.  Nor  could  this  be  entirely  owing 
to  the  merits  of  him  who  lay  below,  pious  man  though  he 
was. 

On  the  Tuesday  night  the  Baal  Sliem  and  his  disciples 
came  to  an  inn,  where  he  found  the  host  sitting  sadly  in 
a  room  ablaze  festally  with  countless  candles  and  crowd- 
ed with  little  boys,  rocking  themselves  to  and  fro  with 
prayer. 

"  Can  we  lodge  here  for  the  night  ?"  asked  the  Baal 
Shem. 

"Nay,"  answered  the  host  dejectedly. 

"  Why  art  thou  sad  ?  Perchance  I  can  heljj  thee,"  said 
the  Baal  Shem. 

"To-night,  as  thou  seest,  is  watch-night,"  said  the  man ; 
"  for  to-morrow  my  latest-born  is  to  be  circumcised.  This 
is  my  fifth  child,  and  all  the  others  have  died  suddenly  at 
midnight,  although  up  to  then  there  has  been  no  sign  of 
sickness.  I  know  not  Avhy  Lilith  should  have  such  a 
grudge  against  my  progeny.  But  so  it  is,  the  devil's 
mother,  she  kills  them  every  one,  despite  the  many  charms 
and  talismans  hung  round  my  wife's  bed.  Every  day  since 
the  birth,  these  chiklren  have  come  to  say  the  Sliemaluj  and 
the  ninety-first  psalm.  And  to-night  the  elders  are  coming 
to  watch  and  study  all  night.  But  I  fear  they  will  not  clieat 
Lilith  of  her  prey.  Therefore  am  I  not  in  tlie  humor  to 
lodge  strangers." 

"Let  the  little  ones  go  home;  they  are  falling  asleep," 
said  the  Master.  "And  let  them  tell  tbeir  fathers  to  stay 
at  home  in  their  beds.  My  pupils  and  I  will  watch  and 
pray." 

250 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

So  said,  so  done.  The  Baal  Shem  told  off  two  of  his  men 
to  hold  a  sack  open  at  the  cradle  of  the  child,  and  he  in- 
structed the  rest  of  his  pupils  to  study  holy  law  ceaselessly, 
and  on  no  account  to  let  their  eyelids  close,  though  he  him- 
self designed  to  sleep.  Should  anything  fall  into  the  sack 
the  two  men  were  to  close  it  forthwith  and  then  awaken 
him.  With  a  final  caution  to  his  disciples  not  to  fall 
asleep,  the  Master  withdrew  to  his  chamber.  The  hours 
drew  on.  Naught  was  heard  save  the  droning  of  the 
students  and  the  sough  of  the  wind  in  the  forest.  At  mid- 
night the  flames  of  the  candles  wavered  violently,  though 
no  breath  of  Avind  was  felt  within  the  hot  room.  But  the 
watchers  shielding  the  flames  with  their  hands  strove  to 
prevent  them  being  extinguished.  Nevertheless  they  all 
went  out,  and  a  weird  gloom  fell  upon  the  room,  the 
firelight  throwing  the  students'  shadows  horribly  on  the 
walls  and  ceiling.  Their  blood  ran  cold.  But  one,  bolder 
than  the  rest,  snatching  a  brand  from  the  hearth,  relit  the 
candles.  As  the  last  wick  flamed  again,  a  great  black  cat 
fell  into  the  sack.  The  two  men  immediately  tied  up  the 
mouth  of  it  and  went  to  rouse  the  Baal  Shem. 

''Take  two  cudgels,"  said  he,  "and  thrash  the  sack  as 
hard  as  you  can." 

After  they  had  given  it  a  sound  drubbing,  he  bade  them 
unbind  the  sack  and  throw  it  into  the  street.  And  so  the 
day  dawned,  and  all  was  well  with  the  child.  That  day 
they  performed  the  ceremony  of  Initiation  with  great  re- 
joicing, and  the  Baal  Shem  was  made  godfather  or  Sandch. 
But  before  the  feasting  began,  the  father  of  the  child 
begged  the  Baal  Shem  to  tarry,  "for,"  said  he,  "I  must 
needs  go  first  to  the  lord  of  the  soil  and  take  him  a  gift  of 
wine.  For  he  is  a  cruel  tyrant,  and  Avill  visit  it  npou  me  if 
I  fail  to  pay  him  honor  on  this  joyous  occasion." 

"  Go  in  peace,"  said  the  Baal  Shem. 

251 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

When  the  man  arrived  at  the  seigneur's  house,  the  lackeys 
informed  him  that  their  master  was  ill,  but  had  left  in- 
structions that  he  was  to  be  told  Avhen  the  gift  was  brought. 
The  »an  waited,  and  the  seigneur  ordered  him  to  be  ad- 
mitted, and  received  him  very  affably,  asking  him  how 
business  was,  and  if  he  had  guests  at  his  inn. 

'•'Ay,  indeed,"  answered  the  innkeeper ;  "there  is  stay- 
ing with  me  a  very  holy  man  Avho  is  from  Poland,  and  he 
delivered  my  child  from  death." 

''Indeed  !"  said  the  seigneur,  with  interest,  and  the  man 
thereupon  told  him  the  whole  story. 

"  Bring  me  this  stranger,"  commanded  the  seigneur  ;  "I 
would  speak  with  him." 

The  innkeeper  went  home  very  much  perturbed. 

"  Why  so  frightened  an  air  ?"  the  Baal  Shem  asked 
him. 

"  The  seigneur  desires  thee  to  go  to  him.  I  fear  he  will 
do  thee  a  mischief.  I  beseech  thee,  depart  at  once,  and  I 
will  tell  him  thou  hadst  already  gone." 

"  I  will  go  to  him,"  said  the  Baal  Shem. 

He  was  ushered  into  the  sick-room.  As  soon  as  the 
seigneur  had  dismissed  his  lackeys  he  sat  up  in  bed,  thus 
revealing  black-and-blue  marks  in  his  flesh,  and  sneered 
vengefully — 

"Doubtless  thou  thinkest  thyself  very  cunning  to  have 
caught  me  unawares." 

"  Would  I  had  come  before  thou  hadst  killed  the  other 
four,"  replied  the  Baal  Shem. 

"Ho  !  ho  I"  hissed  the  magician  ;  "so  thou  feelcst  sure 
thou  art  a  greater  wizard  than  I.  Well,  I  challenge  thee 
to  the  test." 

"I  have  no  desire  to  contend  with  thee,"  replied  the 
Baal  Shem  calmly  ;  "  I  am  no  wizard.  I  have  only  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Name." 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

''  Ball !  My  witchcraft  against  thy  Holy  Name,"  sneered 
the  wizard. 

"The  Name  must  be  vindicated/'  said  the  Baal  Shem. 
"  I  accept  thy  challenge.  This  day  a  month  I  will  assem- 
ble my  pupils.  Do  thou  and  thy  brethren  gather  together 
your  attendant  spirits.  And  thou  shalt  learn  that  there 
is  a  God."" 

In  a  month's  time  the  Baal  Shem  with  all  his  pupils  met 
the  wizard  Avith  his  fellows  in  an  open  field  ;  and  there,  un- 
der the  blue  circle  of  Heaven,  the  Baal  Shem  made  two 
circles  around  himself  and  one  in  another  place  around  his 
pupils,  enjoining  them  to  keep  their  eyes  fixed  on  his  face, 
and,  if  they  noticed  any  change  in  it,  immediately  to  be- 
gin crying  the  Penitential  Prayer.  The  arch-wizard  also 
made  a  circle  for  himself  and  his  fellow-wizards  at  the 
other  end  of  the  field,  and  commenced  his  attack  forth- 
Avith.  He  sent  against  the  Baal  Shem  swarms  of  animals, 
which  swept  towards  the  circle  with  clamorous  fury.  But 
Avhen  they  came  to  tlio  first  circle,  they  vanished.  Then 
another  swarm  took  their  place — and  another — and  then 
another — lions,  tigers,  leopards,  wolves,  griflins,  unicorns, 
and  nnnameable  creatures,  all  dashing  themselves  into 
nothingness  against  the  holy  circle.  Thus  it  Avent  on  all 
the  long  day,  every  instant  seeing  some  new  bristling  horde 
vomited  and  SAvalloAved  up  again. 

Towards  twilight  the  arch-magician  launched  upon  the 
Baal  Shem  a  herd  of  Avild  boars,  spitting  flames  ;  and  these 
at  last  passed  beyond  the  first  circle.  Tiien  the  pupils  saw 
a  change  come  over  the  Baal  Shcm's  face,  and  they  began 
to  Avail  the  Penitential  Prayer. 

Still  the  boars  sped  oh  till  they  reached  the  second  cir- 
cle. Then  they  vanished.  Three  times  the  Avizard  launched 
his  boars,  the  flames  of  their  jaws  lighting  up  the  gather- 
ing dusk,  but  going  out  like  bloAvn  candles  at  the  second 

253 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

circle.  Then  said  the  wizard,  '"I  have  done  my  all.*'  He 
bowed  his  head.  "  Well,  I  know  one  glance  of  thine  eyes 
will  kill  me.     I  bid  life  farewell.'' 

"Xay,  look  up,"  said  the  Baal  Shem  ;  "  had  I  wished  to 
kill  thee,  thou  wouldst  long  ago  have  been  but  a  handful 
of  ashes  spread  over  this  field.  But  I  wish  to  show  thee 
that  there  is  a  God  above  us.  Come,  lift  up  thine  eyes  to 
Heaven." 

The  Avizard  raised  his  eyes  towards  the  celestial  circle, 
in  which  the  first  stars  were  beginning  to  twinkle.  Then 
two  thorns  came  and  took  out  his  eyes.  Till  his  death 
was  he  blind ;  but  he  saw  that  there  was  a  God  in  Heaven. 


Of  Rabbi  Baer  I  heard  on  my  Avay  nothing  but  eulogies, 
and  his  miracles  were  second  only  to  those  of  his  Master. 
He  was  a  great  man  in  Israel,  a  scholar  profound  as  few. 
Even  the  enemies  of  the  Chassidim — and  they  were*  many 
and  envenomed — admitted  his  learning,  and  complained 
that  his  defection  to  the  sect  had  greatly  strengthened  and 
drawn  grave  disciples  to  this  ignorant  movement.  For, 
according  to  them,  the  Baal  Shem  was  as  unlettered  as  he 
gave  himself  out  to  be,  nor  did  they  credit  the  story  of  his 
followers  that  all  his  apparent  ignorance  was  due  to  his 
celestial  oath  not  to  reveal  himself  till  his  thirty-sixth  year. 
As  for  the  followers,  they  were  esteemed  simply  a  set  of 
lewd,  dancing  fanatics  ;  and,  of  a  truth,  a  prayer-service  1 
succeeded  in  witnessing  in  one  town  considerably  chilled 
my  hopes.  For  the  worshippers  shouted,  beat  their  breasts, 
struck  their  heads  against  the  wall,  tugged  at  their  ear- 
curls,  leaped  aloft  with  wild  yells  and  even  foamed  at  the 
mouth,   nor  could   I   see   any  sublime  idea   behind   these 

•254 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

maniacal  manifestations.  They  had  their  own  special 
Zaddik  (Saint)  here^  whom  they  vaunted  as  even  greater 
than  Baer. 

"  He  talks  with  angels/'  one  told  me. 

"How  know  you  that  ?"  I  said  sceptically. 

''  He  himself  admits  it." 

"  But  suppose  he  lies  !" 

"  What !  A  man  who  talks  with  angels  be  capable  of  a 
lie  !" 

I  did  not  pause  to  point  out  to  him  that  this  reasoning 
violated  even  Talmudical  logic,  for  I  feared  if  I  received 
the  doctrine  from  such  mouths  I  should  lose  all  my  en- 
thusiasm ere  reaching  the  fountain-head,  and  hereafter  in 
my  journeyings  I  avoided  hunting  out  the  members  of  the 
sect,  even  as  I  strove  to  dismiss  from  my  mind  the  mali- 
cious inuendoes  and  denunciations  of  their  opponents,  who 
said  it  was  not  Avithout  reason  this  sect  had  arisen  in  a 
country  where  only  the  eldest  son  in  a  Jewish  family  was 
allowed  by  the  State  to  marry.  I  would  keep  my  mind 
clear  and  free  from  prepossessions  on  either  side.  And 
thus  at  last,  after  many  weary  days  and  adventures  which 
it  boots  not  to  recall  here,  such  as  the  proposals  of  mar- 
riage made  to  me  by  some  of  my  hosts — aiul  they  house- 
holders in  Israel,  albeit  unillumined — I  arrived  at  the  goal 
of  the  first  stage  of  my  journey,  the  village  of  Mizricz. 

I  scarcely  stayed  to  refresh  myself  after  my  journey,  but 
hastened  immediately  to  Rabbi  Baer's  house,  which  rose 
regal  and  lofty  on  a  wooded  eminence  overlooking  the  river 
as  it  foamed  through  the  mountain  gullies  on  its  way  to  the 
Dnieper.  I  crossed  the  broad  pine-bridge  without  a  second 
glance  at  the  rushing  water,  but  to  my  acute  disappoint- 
ment when  I  reached  the  great  house  I  was  not  admitted. 
I  was  told  that  the  Saint  could  not  be  seen  of  mortal  eye 
till  the  Sabbath,  being,  I  gathered,  in  a  mystic  transport. 

2)5 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

It  was  then  Wednesday.  Mine  was  not  the  only  disappoint- 
ment, for  the  door  was  besieged  by  a  curious  rabble  of  pil- 
grims of  both  sexes,  some  come  from  very  far,  some  on 
foot  and  in  rags,  some  in  well-ap])ointed  equipages.  One 
of  the  latter — a  beautiful,  richly  dressed  woman — by  no 
means  took  her  exclusion  with  good  grace,  bidding  her 
coachnum  knock  again  and  again  at  tlie  door,  and  en- 
deavoring to  bribe  the  door-keeper  with  grocery,  wine,  and 
liiially  gold  :  but  all  in  vain.  I  entered  into  conversation 
Avith  members  of  the  crowd,  and  discovered  that  some 
came  for  cures,  and  some  for  charms,  and  some  for  divine 
interpositions  in  their  worldly  affairs.  One  man,  I  found, 
desired  that  the  price  of  wheat  might  go  up,  and  another 
that  it  might  fall.  Another  desired  a  husband  for  his  el- 
derly daughter,  already  nineteen.  And  an  old  couple  were 
in  great  distress  at  the  robbery  of  their  jewels,  and  were 
sure  the  Saint  would  discover  the  thief  and  recover  the 
booty.  I  found  but  one,  who,  like  mo,  came  from  a  con- 
suming desire  to  hear  new  doctrine  for  the  soul.  And  so  I 
was  to  have  the  advantage  of  them,  I  learnt,  not  without 
chuckling  ;  for  whereas  I  should  receive  my  wish  on  the 
Sabbath,  being  invited  to  attend  "the  Supper  of  the  Holy 
(^)ueen,"  these  worldly  matters  could  not  be  attended  to 
till  the  Sunday.  I  whiled  away  the  intervening  days  as 
l)atiently  as  I  could,  ex^^loring  the  beautiful  environs  be- 
yond the  Saint's  house,  further  than  which  nobody  ever 
seemed  to  penetrate  ;  and,  indeed,  it  was  but  seldom  that  I 
had  heard  of  a  Jew's  making  the  blessing  over  lofty  moun- 
tains CH-  beautiful  trees.  Perhaps  because  our  country  was 
for  the  most  part  only  a  great  swamp.  But  often  had  I 
occasion  in  these  walks  to  say,  "  Blessed  art  thou,  0  Lord 
our  God,  who  hast  such  things  in  'JMiy  world."  I  scarcely 
ever  saw  a  human  creature,  which  somehow  comforted  and 
uplifted  me.     Only  once  were  my  meditations  interrupted, 

25G 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

and  that  by  a  shout  which  startled  me,  and  just  enabled 
me  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  an  elegant,  glittering  carriage 
drawn  by  two  white  horses,  in  Avhicli  a  stout-looking  man 
lolled  luxuriously,  smoking  a  hookah.  My  prayerful  mood 
Avas  broken,  and  I  fell  upon  worldly  thoughts  of  riches  and 
ease. 

On  Friday  night  I  ate  with  an  elder  of  the  Chassidim, 
who  heard  of  my  interest  in  his  order,  but  whom  I  could 
not  get  to  understand  that  I  was  come  to  examine,  not  to 
accept  unquestioningly.  I  plied  him  with  questions  as  to 
the  ideas  of  his  sect,  but  he  for  his  jiart  could  make  noth- 
ing clear  to  me  except  the  doctrine  of  self-annihilation  in 
prayer,  by  which  the  devout  worshipper  was  absorbed  into 
the  Godhead  ;  a  doctrine  from  which  flowed  naturally  the 
abrogation  of  stated  hours  of  jirayer,  since  the  mood  of  ab- 
sorption could  not  be  had  at  command.  Sometimes,  in- 
deed, silence  Avas  the  better  prayer,  and  this  Avas  the  true 
explanation  of  the  Talmudical  saying  :  "If  speech  is  Avorth 
one  piece  of  silver,  silence  is  worth  two."  And  this,  like- 
Avise,  was  the  meaning  of  the  verse  in  2  Kings  ch.  iii.  v.  15  : 
"When  the  minstrel  played,  the  spirit  of  God  came  upon 
him."  That  is  to  say,  Avhen  the  minstrel  became  an  instru- 
ment and  uttered  music,  it  was  because  the  spirit  of  God 
played  upon  him.  So  long  as  a  man  is  self-active,  he  can- 
not receive  the  Holy  Ghost. 

The  text  in  Kings  seemed  to  mo  rather  Avrenched  from 
its  context  in  the  fashion  already  nauseous  to  me  in  the 
orthodox  schools,  but  as  I  had  never  in  my  life  had  such 
moments  of  grace  as  in  my  mountain-Avalks,  I  expressed  so 
hearty  an  acquiescence  in  the  doctrine  itself — shocking  to 
the  orthodox  mind  trained  in  elaborate  codification  of  the 
time-limits  of  the  daAvn-prayer  or  the  Avestering-service — 
that  mine  host  Avas  more  persuaded  than  ever  I  meant  to 
become  a  Chassid. 

R  257 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"There  is  no  rite,"  said  he  reassuringly.  ''That  you 
desire  Perfection  suffices  to  ensure  your  reception  into  our 
order.  At  the  Supper  of  the  Holy  Queen  you  will  not  be 
asked  as  to  your  past  life,  or  your  sins,  because  your  heart 
is  to  tlie  Saint  as  an  open  scroll,  as  you  will  discover  when 
you  have  the  bliss  to  see  him  face  to  face,  for  though  he 
will  address  all  the  pilgrims  in  a  body,  yet  you  will  find 
particular  references  designed  only  for  you." 

"  But  he  has  never  heard  of  me  before  I" 

"These  things  would  be  hard  for  one  who  preaches  to 
his  own  glory.  But  he  who  lets  the  spirit  play  upon  him 
is  Aviser  than  all  the  preachers." 

With  beating  heart  I  entered  the  Saint's  house  on  the 
long-expected  Sabbath.  I  was  ushered,  with  many  other 
men,  into  a  dining-room,  richly  carj)eted  and  tapestried, 
with  a  large  oak  table,  laid  for  about  a  score.  A  liveried 
attendant,  treading  with  hushed  footsteps,  imparted  to  us 
his  own  awe,  and,  scarcely  daring  to  whisper,  we  awaited 
the  great  man.  At  last  he  appeared,  tall  and  majestic,  in 
a  flowing  caftan  of  white  satin,  cut  so  as  to  reveal  his  bare 
breast.  His  shoes  were  white,  and  even  the  snuff-box  he 
toyed  with  was  equally  of  the  color  of  grace.  As  I  caught 
my  first  glimpse  of  his  face,  I  felt  it  was  strangely  familiar, 
but  where  or  when  I  had  seen  it  I  could  not  recall,  and  the 
thought  of  this  haunted  the  back  of  my  mind  throughout. 

"  Peace  be  to  you,"  he  said  to  each  in  turn.  We  breathed 
back  respectful  response,  and  took  our  seats  at  the  table. 
The  same  solemn  silence  reigned  during  the  meal,  which 
Avas  wound  uj)  by  Kucjcjol  (Sabbath-pudding).  By  this  time 
the  room  was  full  of  new-comers,  who  had  gradually  dropped 
in  for  the  levee,  and  who  swarmed  about  the  table,  anxious 
for  the  merest  crumb  of  the  pudding.  And  great  was  the 
bliss  on  the  faces  of  those  who  succeeded  in  snatching  a 
morsel,  as  though  it  secured  them  Paradise. 

258 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

When  this  unseemly  scramble  was  over,  the  Saint — who, 
leaning  his  brow  on  his  hands,  had  appeared  not  to  notice 
these  jiroceedings — struck  up  a  solemn  hymn-tune.  Then 
he  put  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  as  if  lost  in  an  ecstasy  ;  after 
which  he  suddenly  began  to  call  out  our  names,  coupled  with 
the  places  we  came  from,  astonishing  us  all  in  turn.  Each 
guest,  when  thus  cried,  responded  with  a  verse  from  the 
Scriptures.  When  it  came  to  my  turn,  I  was  so  taken 
aback  by  the  Saint's  knowledge  of  me  that  I  could  not 
think  of  a  verse.  But  at  last,  blushing  and  confused,  I 
fell  back  upon  my  name-verse,  which  began  with  my  initial 
to  help  me  to  remember  my  name  (for  so  I  had  been  taught) 
when  the  angel  should  demand  it  of  me  in  my  tomb.  To 
my  astonishment  the  Saint  then  began  to  deliver  a  dis- 
course ujion  all  these  texts,  so  ingeniously  dovetailed  that 
one  would  have  sworn  no  better  texts  could  have  been  se- 
lected. ''Verily  have  they  spoken  the  truth  of  this  man's 
learning,"  I  thought,  with  a  glow.  Nor  did  this  marvellous 
oration  fail  to  evince  that  surprising  knowledge  of  my  past 
— even  down  to  my  dead  wife — which  mine  host  had  pre- 
dicted. I  left  this  wonder-worker's  house  exalted  and  edi- 
fied, though  all  I  remember  now  of  the  discourse  was  the 
novel  interpretation  of  the  passage  in  the  Mishna  :  ''Let 
the  honor  of  thy  neighbor  be  as  dear  to  thee  as  thine  own." 

"Thine  own,"  said  Baer,  "means  the  honor  thou  doest 
to  thyself  ;  to  take  pleasure  in  the  which  were  ridiculous. 
As  little  pleasure  should  the  wise  man  take  in  his  neigh- 
bor's honor — that  is,  in  the  honor  which  his  neighbor  doeth 
him."  This  seemed  rather  inconsistent  with  his  own  pomp, 
and  I  only  appreciated  the  sentiment  months  later. 

After  this  discourse  was  quite  over,  a  member  of  the  sect 
arrived.     "  Why  so  late  ?"  he  was  asked. 

"My  wife  was  confined,"  he  said  shamefacedly.  Fa- 
cetiously uproarious  congratulations  greeted  him. 

259 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''  Boy  or  girl  ?"  cried  many  voices. 

"  Girl,"  he  said  more  shamefacedly. 

"A  girl  !"  cried  the  Saint,  in  indignant  accents.  ''You 
ought  to  be  whipped." 

Immediately  the  company  with  great  glee  set  upon  the 
unfortunate  man,  tumbled  him  over,  and  gave  him  an  hi- 
larious but  hearty  drubbing.  I  looked  at  the  Saint  in  as- 
tonishment. His  muscles  were  relaxed  in  a  grin,  and  I 
had  another  flash  of  elusive  recollection  of  his  face.  But 
ere  I  could  fix  it,  he  stopped  the  horse-play. 

"Come,  brethren,"  he  said,  "let  us  serve  the  Lord  with 
gladness,"  and  he  trolled  forth  a  jocund  hymn. 

On  the  next  day,  with  mingled  feelings,  I  again  sought 
the  Zaddik's  doorway,  through  which  was  pouring  the 
stream  of  those  who  had  waited  so  long  ;  but  access  to  the 
holy  man  was  still  not  easy.  In  the  spacious  antechamber 
sat  the  Saint's  scribe,  at  a  table  round  which  the  crowd 
clustered,  each  explaining  his  or  her  want,  which  the  scribe 
scribbled  upon  a  scrap  of  paper  for  them  to  take  in  to  the 
Saint.  I  listened  to  the  instructions  of  the  clamorous  ap- 
plicants. "I,  Rachel,  daughter  of  Hannah,  wish  to  have 
children,"  ran  the  request  of  the  beautiful  rich  woman 
whose  coachman  had  knocked  so  persistently ;  and  her 
gratuity  to  the  scribe  seemed  to  be  of  gold.  I  myself  paid 
only  a  few  kreutzer,  and  simply  desired — and  was  alone  in 
desiring — "Perfection."  There  was  another  money-receiv- 
ing man  at  the  Rabbi's  door  ;  but  I  followed  in  the  golden 
wake  of  the  rich  lady,  and  was  just  in  time  to  witness  the 
parting  gratitude  of  the  vociferous  old  couple  to  whom  the 
Rabbi  had  restored  their  jewels.  The  Saint,with  no  signs  of 
satisfaction  at  his  miraculous  success,  gravely  dismissed  the 
garrulous  couple,  and  took  the  folded  paper  which  the  beau- 
tiful woman  handed  him,  and  which  he  did  not  even  open, 
placing  it  to  his  forehead  and  turning  his  eyes  heavenwards. 

260 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

"  You  wish  to  have  a  chikl,"  he  said. 

The  Avoman  started.  "  0  thou  man  of  God  !"  she  cried, 
falling  at  his  feet. 

The  Saint  placed  his  hand  I'eassnringly  upon  her  hair. 
And  at  this  moment  something  in  his  expression  at  length 
unsealed  my  eyes,  and  I  recognized,  with  a  pang  of  pain, 
the  man  who  had  driven  past  me  in  that  elegant  equi- 
page, lolling  luxuriously  and  smoking  his  hookah.  I  was  so 
perturbed  that  I  fled  unceremoniously  from  the  audience- 
chamber.  Perfection,  indeed  !  Here  Avas  a  teacher  of 
humility  Avho  sat  throned  amid  tajDestries,  a  preacher  of 
righteousness  who,  Avhen  he  feigned  to  be  absorbed  in  God, 
Avas  Avallowing  in  his  carriage  !  Yea,  these  Rabbis  of  the 
Chassidim  Avere  AvhitcAvashed  sepulchres  ;  and,  as  the  ortho- 
dox communities  did  not  fail  of  such,  it  seemed  a  Avaste  of 
energy  to  go  out  of  the  fold  in  search  of  more.  All  that  I 
had  heard  against  the  sect  on  my  route  SAvejit  back  into  my 
mind,  and  I  divided  its  members  into  rogues  and  dupes. 
And  in  this  bitter  mood  a  dozen  little  threads  flcAV  to- 
gether and  knitted  themselves  into  a  Aveb  of  Avickedness. 
I  told  myself  that  the  hamlet  must  be  full  of  Baer's 
spies,  and  that  my  host  himself  had  cunningly  extract- 
ed from  me  the  facts  of  my  history ;  and  as  for  the  re- 
stored jcAvels,  I  felt  sure  his  OAvn  men  had  stolen  them. 
I  slung  my  knapsack  across  my  shoulder  and  started  for 
home. 

But  I  had  not  made  many  hundred  yards  when  my  mood 
softened.  I  remembered  the  wonderful  sermon,  Avith  its 
manipulation  of  texts  Rabbi  Baer  could  not  have  foreseen, 
and  bethought  myself  that  he  Avas  indeed  a  Prince  in  Israel, 
and  that  King  David  and  Solomon  the  Wise  had  not  failed 
to  live  in  due  magnificence.  "And  after  all,"  mused  I, 
"'tis  innocent  enough  to  drive  by  the  river-side.  Who 
knows  but  even  thus  is  his  absorption  in  God  accomplished  ? 

261 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Do  not  they  who  smoke  this  tobacco  aver  that  it  soothes 
and  purifies  the  soul  ?" 

Besides,  who  but  a  fool,  I  reflected  further,  would  slink 
back  to  his  starting-point,  his  goal  unvisited  ?  I  had  seen 
the  glory  of  the  disciple,  let  me  gaze  lapon  the  glory  of  the 
Master,  and  upon  the  purple  splendors  of  his  court. 

And  so  I  struck  out  again  for  Miedziboz,  though  by  a 
side-path,  so  as  to  avoid  the  village  of  Baer. 


VI 

It  was  April  ere  I  began  to  draw  near  my  destination. 
The  roads  were  still  muddy  and  marshy  ;  but  in  that  happy 
interval  between  the  winter  gray  and  the  summer  haze  the 
breath  of  spring  made  the  world  beautiful.  The  Stri  river 
sparkled,  even  the  ruined  castles  looked  gay,  Avhile  the 
pleasure-grounds  of  the  lords  of  the  soil  filled  the  air  with 
sweet  scents.  One  day,  as  I  was  approaching  a  village  up 
a  somewhat  steep  road,  a  little  gray-haired  man  driving  a 
Avagon  holding  some  sacks  of  flour  passed  me,  whistling 
cheerfully.  We  gave  each  other  the  "^  Peace  "  salutation, 
knowing  ourselves  brother  Jews,  if  only  by  our  furred  caps 
and  ear-curls.  Presently,  in  pity  of  his  beast,  I  saw  him 
jump  down  and  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel  ;  but  he  had 
not  made  fifty  paces  when  his  horse  slipped  and  fell.  I 
hastened  up  to  help  him  extricate  the  animal ;  and  before 
we  had  succeeded  in  setting  the  horse  on  his  four  feet  again, 
the  driver's  cheeriness  under  difficulties  had  made  me  feel 
quite  friendly  towards  him. 

**  Satan  is  evidently  bent  upon  disturbing  my  Passover," 
said  he,  ''for  this  is  the  second  time  that  I  have  tried  to 
get  my  Passover  flour  home.  My  good  wife  told  me  that 
we  had  nothing  to  eat  for  the  festival,  so  I  felt  I  must  give 

262 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

myself  a  counsel.  Out  I  went  with  my  slaughtering-knife 
into  the  villages  on  the  north — no,  don't  be  alarmed,  not 
to  kill  the  inhabitants,  but  to  slaughter  their  Passover 
poultry." 

"  You  are  a  Shochct  (licensed  killer),"  said  I. 

"  Yes,"  said  he  ;  "  among  other  things.  It  would  be  an 
intolerable  profession,"  he  added  reflectively,  "were  it  not 
for  the  thought  that  since  the  poor  birds  have  to  be  killed, 
they  are  better  off  in  my  hands.  However,  as  I  was  say- 
ing, I  killed  enough  poultry  to  buy  Passover  flour ;  but 
before  I  got  it  home  the  devil  sent  such  a  deluge  that  it 
was  all  spoilt.  I  took  my  knife  again  and  went  out  into 
the  southern  villages,  and  now,  here  am  I  in  another  quan- 
dary.    I  only  hope  I  sha'n't  have  to  kill  my  horse  too." 

"  jSTo,  I  don't  think  he  is  damaged,"  said  I,  as  the  event 
proved. 

AVhen  I  had  helped  this  good-natured  little  man  and  his 
horse  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  he  invited  me  to  jump  into  the 
cart  if  my  way  lay  in  his  direction. 

"^I  am  in  search  of  the  Baal  Shem,"  I  explained. 

"Indeed,"  said  he  ;  "he  is  easily  to  be  found." 

"AVhat,  do  you  know  the  Baal  Shem?"  I  cried  ex- 
citedly. 

He  seemed  amused  at  my  agitation.  His  black  eyes 
twinkled.  "'"Why,  everybody  in  these  parts  knows  the 
Baal  Shem,"  said  he. 

"  How  shall  I  find  him,  then  ?"  I  asked. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.     "  You  have  but  to  step  up. 
into  my  cart." 

"May  your  strength  increase  !"  I  cried  gratefully  ;  "you 
are  going  in  his  direction  ?" 

He  nodded  his  head. 

I  climbed  up  the  wheel  and  plumped  myself  down  be- 
tween two  fiour-sacks.     "  Is  it  far  ?"  I  asked. 

263 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

He  smiled.  "  Nay,  if  it  was  far  I  should  scarcely  have 
asked  you  up." 

Then  we  both  fell  silent.  For  my  part,  despite  the  jolt- 
ing of  tlie  vehicle,  the  lift  was  grateful  to  my  spent  limbs, 
and  the  blue  sky  and  the  rustling  loaves  and  the  near  pros- 
pect of  at  last  seeing  the  Baal  Shem  contributed  to  lull  me 
into  a  pleasant  languor.  But  my  torpor  was  not  so  deep  as 
that  into  which  my  new  friend  appeared  to  fall,  for  though 
as  we  approached  a  village  another  vehicle  dashed  towards 
us,  my  shouts  and  the  other  driver's  cries  only  roused  him 
in  time  to  escape  losing  a  wheel. 

"You  must  have  been  thinking  of  a  knotty  point  of 
Torah  (Holy  Law),"  said  I. 

"Knotty  point,"  said  he,  shuddering  ;  "it  is  Satan  who 
ties  those  knots." 

"  Oho,"  said  I,  "  though  a  Shocliet,  you  do  not  seem 
fond  of  rabbinical  learning." 

"Where  there  is  much  study,"  he  replied  tersely,  "there 
is  little  piety." 

At  this  moment,  aj)positely  enough,  we  passed  by  the 
village  Beth-Hamidrash,  whence  loud  sounds  of  "pilpulis- 
tic  "  (wire-drawn)  argument  issued.  The  driver  clapped 
his  palms  over  his  ears. 

"  It  is  such  disputants,"  he  cried  with  a  grimace,  "  who 
delay  the  redemption  of  Israel  from  exile." 

"How  so  ?"  said  I. 

"Satan  induces  these  Rabbis,"  said  he,  "to  study  only 
those  portions  of  our  holy  literature  on  which  they  can  whet 
their  ingenuity.  But  from  all  writings  which  would  pro- 
mote piety  and  fear  of  God  he  keeps  them  away." 

I  was  delighted  and  astonislied  to  hear  the  Shochet  thus 
deliver  himself,  but  before  I  could  express  my  acquiescence, 
his  attention  was  diverted  by  a  pretty  maiden  who  came 
along  driving  a  cow. 

264 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

''What  a  glorious  creature!"  said  he,  while  his  eyes 
shone. 

"  Which  ?"  said  I  laughingly.     "  The  cow  ?" 

"  Both,"  he  retorted,  looking  back  lingeringly. 

"1  understand  now  what  you  mean  by  pious  literature," 
I  said  mischievously  :  "the  Song  of  Solomon." 

He  turned  on  me  Avith  strange  earnestness,  as  if  not  per- 
ceiving my  irony.  "Ay,  indeed,"  he  cried  ;  "but  Avhen 
the  Rabbis  do  read  it,  they  turn  it  into  a  bloodless  allegory, 
Jewish  demons  as  they  are  !  What  is  the  beauty  of  yonder 
maiden  but  an  emanation  from  the  divine  ?  The  more 
beautiful  the  body,  the  more  shiningly  it  leads  us  to  the 
thought  of  God." 

I  was  much  impressed  with  this  odd  fellow,  whom  1  per- 
ceived to  be  an  original. 

"  But  that's  very  dangerous  doctrine,"  said  I ;  "by  parity 
of  reasoning  you  would  make  the  lust  of  the  flesh  divine." 

"  Everything  is  divine,"  said  he. 

"  Then  feasting  would  be  as  good  for  the  soul  as  fasting." 

"  Better,"  said  the  driver  curtly. 

I  was  disconcerted  to  find  such  Epicurean  doctines  in  a 
district  where,  but  for  my  experience  of  Baer,  I  should 
have  expected  to  see  the  ascetic  influence  of  the  Baal  Shem 
predominant.  "Then  you're  not  a  follower  of  the  Baal 
Shem  ?"  said  I  tentatively. 

"No,  indeed,"  said  he,  laughing. 

He  had  got  me  into  such  sympathy  with  him — for  there 
was  a  curious  attraction  about  the  man — that  I  felt  some- 
how that,  even  if  the  Baal  Shem  were  an  ascetic,  I  should 
still  gain  nothing  from  him,  and  that  my  long  journey 
would  have  been  made  in  vain,  the  green  pastures  and  the 
living  waters  being  still  as  far  off  as  ever  from  my  droughty 
soul. 

We  had  now  passed  out  of  the  village  and  into  a  thick 

266 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

pine-wood  with  a  path  scarcely  broad  enough  for  the  cart. 
Of  a  sudden  the  silence  into  which  we  again  fell  was  broken 
by  piercing  screams  for  "Help"  coming  from  a  copse  on 
the  right.  Instantly  the  driver  checked  the  horse,  jumped 
to  the  ground,  and  drew  a  long  knife  from  his  girdle. 

"'Tis  useful  to  be  a  Shochet,"  he  said  grimly,  as  he  darted 
among  the  bushes. 

I  followed  in  his  footsteps  and  a  strange  sight  burst  upon 
us.  A  beautiful  woman  was  struggling  with  two  saturi:ine- 
visaged  men  dressed  as  Rabbis  in  silken  hose  and  mantles. 
One  held  her  arms  pinned  to  her  sides,  while  the  other  was 
about  to  plunge  a  dagger  into  her  heart. 

"  Hold  !"  cried  the  Shocliet. 

The  would-be  assassin  fell  back,  a  startled  look  on  his 
narrow  fanatical  face. 

"  Let  the  woman  go  I"  said  the  driver  sternly. 

In  evident  consternation  the  other  obeyed.  The  woman 
fell  forward,  half-fainting,  and  the  driver  caught  her. 

"Be  not  afraid,"  he  said.  ''And  you,  murderers,  down 
at  my  feet  and  thank  me  that  I  have  saved  you  your  por- 
tion in  the  World-To-Come." 

"  Nay,  you  have  lost  it  to  us,"  said  the  one  with  the 
dagger.  "  For  it  was  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  we  were 
about  to  execute.  Know  that  this  is  our  sister,  whom  we 
have  discovered  to  be  a  Avanton  creature,  that  must  bring 
shame  upon  our  learned  house  and  into  our  God-fearing 
town.  Whereupon  we  and  her  husband  held  a  secret  Beth- 
Din,  and  resolved,  according  to  the  spirit  of  o*ur  ancient 
Law,  that  this  plague-spot  must  be  cleansed  out  from  Israel 
for  the  glory  of  the  Name." 

"  The  glory  of  the  Name  !"  repeated  the  driver,  and 
his  eyes  flamed.  "  What  know  you  of  the  glory  of  the 
Name  ?" 

Both  brothers  winced  before  the  passion  of  his  words. 

266 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

They  looked  at  each  other  strangely  and  uneasily,  but  an- 
swered nothing. 

"How  dare  you  call  any  Jewess  a  plague-spot  ?''  Avent 
on  the  driver.  "  Is  any  sin  great  enough  to  separate  us 
irredeemably  from  God,  who  is  in  all  things  ?  Pray  for 
your  sister  if  you  will,  but  do  not  dare  to  sit  in  Judgment 
upon  a  fellow-creature  !" 

The  woman  burst  into  loud  sobs  and  fell  at  liis  feet. 

"  They  are  right  I  they  are  right  I"  she  cried.  "  I  am  a 
wicked  creature.     It  were  better  to  let  me  perish." 

The  driver  raised  her  tenderly.  "  Nay,  in  that  instant 
you  repented,"  he  said,  "and  one  instant's  repentance  wins 
back  God.     Henceforward  you  shall  live  without  sin." 

"  What !  you  would  restore  her  to  Brody  ?"  cried  the 
elder  brother — '*  to  bring  the  wrath  of  Heaven  upon  so 
godly  a  town.  Be  you  who  you  may,  saint  or  devil,  that 
is  beyond  your  power.  Her  husband  assuredly  will  not 
take  her  back.     "With  her  family  she  cannot  live." 

"  Then  she  shall  live  with  mine,'"  said  the  Shocliet.  "My 
daughter  dwells  in  Brody,  I  will  take  her  to  her.  Go 
your  Avays." 

They  stood  disconcerted.  Presently  the  younger  said : 
"  How  know  we  we  are  not  leaving  her  to  greater  shame  ?" 

The  old  man's  face  grew  terrible. 

"  Go  your  ways,"  he  repeated. 

They  slunk  off,  and  I  watched  them  get  into  a  two- 
horsed  carriage,  which  I  now  perceived  on  the  other  side 
of  the  copse.  I  ran  forward  to  give  an  arm  to  the  woman, 
who  was  again  half-fainting. 

'*  Haid  I  not,"  said  the  old  man  musingly,  "that  even 
the  worst  sinners  are  better  than  these  Rabbis  ?  So  blind 
are  they  in  the  arrogance  of  their  self-conceit,  so  darkened 
by  their  pride,  that  their  very  devotion  to  the  Law  becomes 
a  vehicle  for  their  sin." 

267 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"We  helped  the  woman  gently  into  the  cart.  I  climbed 
in,  but  the  old  man  began  to  walk  with  the  horse,  holding 
its  bridle,  and  reversing  its  direction. 

"Aren't  you  jumping  up  ?"  I  asked. 

''We  are  going  up  now,  instead  of  down,"  lie  said,  smil- 
ing.    "  Brody  sits  high,  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful." 

A  pang  of  shame  traversed  my  breast.  AVhat  !  I  was 
riding  and  this  fine  old  fellow  was  walking  !  But  ere  I 
could  offer  to  get  down,  a  new  thought  increased  my  con- 
fusion. I,  who  was  bent  on  finding  the  Baal  Shem,  Avas 
now  off  on  a  side-adventure  to  Brody.  And  yet  I  was  loath 
to  part  so  soon  with  my  new  friend.  And  besides,  I  told 
myself,  Brody  Avas  well  worth  a  visit.  The  reputation  of 
its  Talmud  leal  schools  was  spread  over  the  kingdom,  and 
although  I  shared  the  old  man's  repugnance  to  them  my 
curiosity  was  alert.  And  even  on  the  Baal  Shem's  account 
I  ought  to  go  there.  For  I  remembered  now  that  his  early 
life  had  had  many  associations  with  the  town,  and  that 
it  was  his  wife's  birthplace.  So  I  said,  "  How  far  is 
Brody  ?" 

"  Ten  miles,"  he  said. 

*'Ten  miles  !"  I  repeated  in  horror. 

''Ten  miles,"  he  said  musingly,  "and  ten  years  since  I 
set  foot  in  Brody." 

I  jumped  down.     "  'Tis  I  must  walk,  not  you,"  I  said. 

"  Nay,"  said  he  good-humoredly.  "I  perceive  neither 
of  us  can  walk.  Those  sacks  must  play  Jonah.  Out  with 
them." 

"  No,"  I  said. 

"  Yes,"  he  insisted,  laughing.  "  Did  I  not  say  Satan  was 
determined  to  spoil  my  Passover  ?  The  third  time  I  shall 
have  better  luck  perhaps." 

I  protested  against  thus  causing  him  so  much  loss,  and 
offered  to  go  and  \:\ni\  the  Baal  Shcm  alone,  but  he  rolled 

268 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

out  tlie  flour-bags,  laughing,  leaving  one  for  the  woman  to 
lie  against. 

"  But  your  wife  will  be  expecting  them/'  I  remarked, 
as  the  cart  proceeded  with  both  of  us  in  our  seats. 

"  She  will  be  expecting  me,  too,"  he  said,  smiling  rue- 
fully. "However,  she  has  faitlv  in  God.  Never  yet  have 
we  lacked  food.  Surely  He  who  feedeth  the  ravens — " 
He  broke  off  with  a  sudden  thought,  leapt  down,  and  ran 
back. 

'^What  is  it?"  I  said. 

I  saw  him  draw  out  his  knife  again  and  slit  open  the 
sacks.  "The  birds  shall  keep  Passover,"  he  called  out 
merrily. 

The  womaii  was  still  sobbing  as  he  climbed  to  his  place, 
but  he  comforted  her  with  his  genial  and  heterodox  phi- 
losophy. 

'"Tis  a  device  of  Satan,"  he  said,  "to  drive  us  to  de- 
spondency, so  as  to  choke  out  the  God-spark  in  us.  Your 
sin  is  great,  but  your  Father  in  Heaven  aAvaits  you,  and 
will  rejoice  as  a  King  rejoices  over  a  princess  redeemed 
from  captivity.  Every  soul  is  a  whole  Bible  in  itself. 
Yours  contains  Sarah  and  Euth  as  Avell  as  Jezebel  and 
Michal.  Hitherto  you  have  developed  the  Jezebel  in  you  ; 
strive  now  to  develop  the  Sarah."  With  such  bold  con- 
solations he  soothed  her,  till  the  monotonous  movement  of 
the  cart  sent  her  into  a  blessed  sleep.  Then  he  took  out 
a  pipe  and,  begging  permission  of  me,  lighted  it.  As  the 
smoke  curled  up  his  face  became  ecstatic. 

"I  think,"  he  observed  musingly,  "that  God  is  more 
pleased  with  this  incense  of  mine  than  with  all  the  prayers 
of  all  the  Rabbis." 

This  shocked  even  me,  fascinated  though  I  was.  Never 
had  1  met  such  a  man  in  all  Israel.  I  shook  my  head  in 
half-serious  reproof.     "  You  are  a  sinner,"  I  said. 

269 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''Nay,  is  not  smoking  pleasurable?  To  enjoy  aright 
anght  in  God's  creation  is  to  praise  God.  Even  so,  is  not 
to  pray  the  greatest  of  all  pleasures  ?" 

"^  To  pray  ?"  I  repeated  wonderingly.  ''Nay,  methinks 
it  is  a  heavy  burden  to  get  through  our  volumes  of  prayer." 

*'  A  burden  !"  cried  the  old  man.  "  A  burden  to  enter 
into  relation  with  God,  to  be  reabsorbed  into  the  divine 
unity.  Nay,  'tis  a  bliss  as  of  bridegroom  with  bride. 
Whoso  does  not  feel  this  joy  of  union — this  divine  kiss — 
has  not  prayed." 

"  Then  have  I  never  prayed,"  I  said. 

''Then  'tis  you  that  are  the  sinner,"  he  retorted,  laugh- 
ing. 

His  words  struck  me  into  a  meditative  silence.  It  was 
towards  twilight  when  our  oddly-encountered  trio  ap- 
proached the  great  Talmudical  centre.  To  my  surprise  a 
vast  crowd  seemed  to  be  waiting  at  the  gates. 

"It  is  for  me,"  said  the  woman  hysterically,  for  she  had 
now  awakened.  "  My  brothers  have  told  the  elders.  They 
will  kill  you.     0  save  yourself." 

"  Peace,  peace,"  said  tlie  old  man,  puffing  his  pipe. 

As  we  came  near  we  heard  the  people  shouting,  and 
nearer  still  made  out  the  sounds.  Was  it  ?  Yes,  I  could 
not  be  mistaken.     "  The  Baal  Shem  !     The  Baal  Shem  !" 

My  heart  beat  violently.  What  a  stroke  of  luck  was 
this  !     "The  Baal  Shem  is  there  !"  I  cried  exultantly. 

The  woman  grew  worse.  "  The  Baal  Siiem  I"  she 
shrieked.  "He  is  a  holy  man.  He  will  slay  us  with  a 
glance." 

"  Peace,  my  beautiful  creature,"  said  the  driver.  "  Yon 
are  more  likely  to  slay  him  with  a  glance." 

This  time  his  levity  grated  on  me.  I  peered  eagerly  tow- 
ards the  gates,  striving  to  make  out  the  figure  of  the 
mighty  Saint ! 

270 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

The  dense  mob  swayed  tumultuously.  Some  of  the 
people  ran  towards  our  cart.  Our  horse  had  to  come  to  a 
stand-still.  In  a  trice  a  dozen  hands  had  unharnessed  him, 
there  was  an  instant  of  terrible  confusion  in  which  I  felt 
that  violence  was  indeed  meditated,  then  I  found  our  cart 
being  drawn  forward  as  in  triumph  by  contesting  hands, 
while  in  my  ears  thundered  from  a  thousand  throats,  "  The 
Baal  Shem  !  The  Baal  Shem  !"  Suddenly  I  looked  with 
an  incredible  suspicion  at  the  old  man,  smoking  imper- 
turbably  at  my  side. 

*'  'Tis  indeed  a  change  for  Brody,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh 
that  was  half  a  sob. 

A  faintness  blotted  out  the  Avhole  strange  scene — the 
town-gates,  the  eager  faces,  the  gesticulating  figures,  the 
houses,  the  frightened  woman  at  my  side. 

It  was  the  greatest  surprise  of  my  life. 


VII 

A  CHAOS  of  images  clashed  in  my  mind.  I  saw  the 
mystic  figure  of  the  mighty  Master  of  the  Name  standing 
in  the  cemetery  judging  betwixt  the  souls  of  the  dead  ;  I 
saw  him  in  the  upper  world  amid  tlie  angels  ;  I  saw  him 
serene  in  the  centre  of  his  magic  circle,  annihilating  with 
his  glance  the  flaming  hordes  of  demon  boars ;  and  even 
as  the  creatures  shattered  themselves  into  nothingness 
against  the  circle,  so  must  these  sublime  visions  vanish 
before  this  genial  old  man.  And  yet  my  disillusion  was 
not  all  emjity.  There  were  still  the  cheers  to  exalt  me, 
there  was  still  my  strange  companion,  to  whose  ideas  I  had 
already  vibrated,  and  whose  face  was  now  transfigured  to 
my  imagination,  gaining  much  of  what  the  visionary  figure 
had  lost.     And,  amid  all  the  tumult  of  the  moment,  there 

271 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

sang  ill  my  breast  the  divine  assurance  that  here  at  last 
were  the  living  waters,  here  the  green  pastures.  ''  Master," 
I  cried  frantically,  as  I  seized  his  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  My  son,"  he  said  tenderly.  '"  Those  murderers  have 
evidently  informed  the  townspeople  of  my  coming." 

'^It  is  well,"  said  I,  ''I  rejoice  to  witness  your  triumph 
over  a  town  so  rabbi-ridden." 

"  Nay,  speak  not  of  my  triumph,"  reproved  the  Master. 
'^  Thank  God  for  the  change  in  them,  if  change  there  be. 
It  should  be  indifferent  to  man  whether  he  be  praised  or 
blamed,  loved  or  hated,  reputed  to  be  the  wisest  of  man- 
kind or  the  greatest  of  fools." 

"  They  wish  you  to  address  them,  Master,"  I  cried,  as 
the  cheers  continued.     He  smiled. 

"Doubtless — a  sermon  full  of  hair-splitting  exegesis  and 
devil's  webs.  I  pray  you  descend  and  see  that  my  horse 
be  not  stolen." 

I  sprang  down  with  alacrity  to  obey  this  his  first  wish, 
and,  scrambling  on  the  animal,  had  again  a  view  of  the  sea 
of  faces,  all  turned  towards  the  Baal  Sheni.  From  the  ex- 
cited talk  of  the  crowd,  I  gathered  that  the  Baal  Shem  had 
just  performed  one  of  his  greatest  miracles.  Two  brothers 
had  been  journeying  with  their  sister  in  the  woods^  and 
had  been  attacked  by  robbers.  They  had  been  on  the  point 
of  death  when  the  Baal  Shem  miraculously  appeared,  and 
by  merely  mentioning  the  Name,  had  caused  the  robbers 
to  sink  into  the  earth  like  Korah.  The  sister  being  too 
terrified  to  return  with  her  brothers,  the  Baal  Shem  un- 
dertook to  bring  her  to  Brody  himself  in  his  own  celestial 
chariot,  which,  to  those  not  initiated  into  the  higher  mys- 
teries, appeared  like  an  ordinary  cart. 

Meantime  the  Master  had  refilled  his  pipe.  "  Is  that 
my  old  friend  David,"  he  cried,  addressing  one  with  a 
cobbler's  apron  ;  "and  how  is  business  ?" 

272 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

The  cobbler,  abashed  by  tliis  unexpected  honor,  fluslied 
and  stammered  :  "  God  is  good." 

"^  A  sorry  answer,  David;  God  would  be  as  good  if  he 
sent  you  a-begging.  Ha,  ha  !"  he  went  on  cheerily,  "  I 
see  Joseph  the  innkeeper  has  waxed  more  like  a  barrel 
than  ever.  Peace  be  to  you,  Joseph  !  Have  you  learnt  to 
read  yet  ?  No  !  Then  you  are  still  the  wisest  man  in  the 
town." 

By  this  time  some  of  the  Kabbis  and  magnates  in  the 
forefront  of  the  crowd  had  begun  to  look  sullen  at  being 
ignored,  but  even  more  pointedly  than  he  ignored  these 
pillars  of  the  commonweal,  did  the  Baal  Shem  ignore  his 
public  reception,  continuing  to  exchange  greetings  with 
humble  old  acquaintances,  and  finally  begging  the  men 
between  the  shafts  either  to  give  place  again  to  his  horse 
or  to  draw  him  to  his  daughter's  house,  whither  he  had 
undertaken  to  convey  the  woman  they  saw  (who  all  this 
time  had  sat  as  one  in  a  dream).  But  on  the  cries  for  a 
sermon  persisting,  he  said  : 

"Friends,  I  cannot  preach  to  you,  more  than  my  horse 
yonder.  Everything  preaches.  Call  nothing  common  or 
profane  ;  by  God's  presence  all  things  are  holy.  See  there 
are  the  first  stars.  Is  it  not  a  glorious  world  ?  Enjoy  it ; 
only  fools  and  Rabbis  speak^of  the  world  as  vanity  or  emp- 
tiness. But  just  as  a  lover  sees  even  in  the  jewels  of  his 
beloved  only  her  own  beauty,  so  in  stars  and  waters  must 
we  see  only  God."  He  fell  a-puffing  again  at  his  pipe,  but 
the  expectant  crowd  would  not  yet  divide  for  his  passage. 
••  Ye  fools,"  he  said  roughly,  ''you  would  make  me  as  you 
have  made  the  Law  and  the  world,  a  place  for  stopping  at, 
when  all  things  are  but  on  the  way  to  God.  There  was 
once  a  King,"  he  went  on,  ''who  built  himself  a  glorious 
palace.  The  King  was  throned  in  the  centre  of  what  seemed 
a  maze  of  winding  corridors.  In  the  entrance  -  halls  was 
a  273 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

heaped  much  gold  and  silver,  and  here  the  folk  were  con- 
tent to  stay,  taking  their  fill  of  pleasure.  At  last  the  vizier 
had  compassion  upon  them  and  called  out  to  them:  'AH 
these  treasures  and  all  these  walls  and  corridors  do  not  in 
truth  exist  at  all.  They  are  magical  illusions.  Push  for- 
ward bravely  and  you  shall  find  the  King.'  " 

But  as  the  crowd  still  raged  about  disappointed,  pleading 
for  a  miracle,  the  Baal  Shem  whistled,  and  his  horse  flew 
towards  him  so  suddenly  that  I  nearly  fell  off,  and  the  crowd 
had  to  separate  in  haste.  A  paralytic  cripple  dropped  his 
crutch  in  a  flurry  and  fell  a-running,  quite  cured. 

"A  miracle  !  a  miracle  !"  cried  a  hundred  voices.  "  God 
be  praised  !"  . 

The  shout  was  taken  up  all  down  the  street,  and  eager 
spectators  surrounded  the  joyous  cripple,  interrogating  him 
and  feeling  his  limbs. 

"  You  see,  you  see  I"  I  heard  them  say  to  each  other. 
"There  is  witchcraft  even  in  his  horse  !" 

As  the  animal  came  towards  the  shafts  tlie  luunan  drawers 
scattered  hastily.  I  hitched  the  wagon  to  and  we  drove 
through  the  throng  that  begged  the  Baal  Shera's  blessing. 
But  he  only  waved  them  off  smilingly. 

"Bless  one  another  by  your  deeds,"  he  cried  from  time 
to  time.  "  Then  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  will  bless 
you."  And  so  we  came  to  the  Ring -Place,  and  through 
it,  into  the  structure  we  sought — a  tall  two-storied  stone 
building. 

When  we  arrived  at  his  daughter's  house  we  found  that 
she  rented  only  an  apartment,  so  that  none  of  us  but  the 
woman  could  be  lodged,  though  we  were  entertained  with 
food  and  wine.  After  supper,  when  the  iron  shutters  were 
closed,  the  ]5aal  Shem's  daughter — a  beautiful  black-eyed 
girl  —  danced  with  such  fire  and  fervor  that  her  crimson 
head-cloth  nearly  dropped  off,  and  I,  being  now  in  a  cheer- 

274 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

ful  mood,  fell  to  envying  her  husband,  who  for  his  part 
conversed  blithely  with  the  rescued  woman.  In  the  middle 
of  the  gaiety  the  Baal  Sham  retired  to  a  corner,  observing 
he  wished  to  say  his  Mincha  prayer,  and  bidding  us  con- 
tinue our  merriment  and  not  regard  him. 

"Mincha!"  I  ejaculated  unthinkingly,  "why,  it  is  too 
late." 

"  Would  you  give  a  child  regulations  when  he  may  speak 
to  his  Father  ?"  rebuked  the  Baal  Shem. 

So  I  went  on  talking  with  his  daughter,  but  of  a  sudden 
a  smile  curved  my  lips  at  the  thought  of  how  the  foolish 
makers  of  legends  had  feigned  his  praying  to  be  so  fraught 
with  occult  operations  that  he  who  looked  at  him  might 
die.     I  turned  and  stole  a  glance  at  him. 

Then  to  my  amaze,  as  I  caught  sight  of  his  face,  I  real- 
ized for  the  first  time  that  he  was,  indeed,  as  men  called 
him,  the  Master  of  Divine  Secrets.  There  were  on  his 
brow  great  spots  of  perspiration,  and,  as  if  from  agony, 
tears  trickled  down  his  cheeks,  but  his  eyes  were  upturned 
and  glazed,  and  his  face  was  as  that  of  a  dead  man  without 
soul,  only  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  nimbus  of  which  men 
spoke  was  verily  round  his  head.  His  form,  too,  which 
was  grown  rigid,  appeared  strangely  taller.  One  hand 
grasped  the  corner  of  the  dresser.  I  turned  away  my 
eyes  quickly,  fearing  lest  they  should  be  smitten  with 
blindness.  I  know  not  how  many  minutes  passed  before  I 
heard  a  great  sigh,  and,  turning,  saw  the  Baal  Shem's  fig- 
ure stirring  and  quivering,  and  in  another  moment  he  was 
facing  me  with  a  beaming  smile.  "  Well,  my  son,  do  you 
feel  inclined  for  bed  ?'' 

His  question  recalled  to  me  how  much  I  had  gone  through 
that  day,  and  though  I  was  in  no  hurry  to  leave  this  ])leas- 
ant  circle,  yet  I  replied  his  wish  was  law  to  me.  Where- 
upon he  said,  to  my  content,  that  he  Avould  tarry  yet  an- 

275 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

other  quarter  of  an  hour.  When  we  set  out  for  the  inn  of 
Joseph,  where  our  horse  and  cart  had  preceded  us,  it  was 
ten  o'clock,  but  there  was  still  a  crowd  outside  the  house, 
many  of  the  great  iron  doors  adowu  the  street  were  still 
open,  and  men  and  women  pressed  forward  to  kiss  the  hem 
of  the  Master's  garment. 

On  our  walk  I  begged  him  to  tell  me  what  he  had  seen 
during  his  prayers. 

"I  made  a  soul-ascension,"  said  he  simply,  "and  saw 
more  wonderful  things  than  I  have  seen  since  I  came  to 
divine  knowledge.     Praise  to  the  Unity  !" 

"  Can  /  see  such  things  ?"  said  I  breathlessly,  as  all  I 
had  learnt  of  Cabalah  and  all  my  futile  attempts  to  work 
miracles  came  rushing  back  to  me. 

"No — not  you." 

I  felt  chilled,  but  he  went  on  :  "  Not  you — the  you  must 
be  oblitez'ated.     You  must  be  reabsorbed  in  the  Unity." 

"  But  how  ?" 

"Concentrate  your  thought  on  God,     Forget  yourself." 

"I  will  try,  dear  Master,"  said  I.  "But  tell  me  what 
you  saw." 

"  What  I  saw  and  learnt  up  there  it  is  impossible  to  com- 
municate by  word  of  mouth." 

But  I  entreated  him  sore,  and  ere  we  had  parted  for  the 
night  he  delivered  himself  as  follows,  speaking  of  these 
divine  things  in  Hebrew  : — 

"I  may  only  relate  what  I  witnessed  when  I  descended 
to  the  lower  Paradise.  I  saw  there  ever  so  many  souls 
both  of  living  and  of  dead  people,  known  and  unknown  to 
me,  without  measure  and  number,  coming  and  going  from 
one  world  to  the  other,  by  means  of  the  Pillar  which  is 
known  to  those  who  know  Grace.  Great  was  the  joy  which 
the  bodily  breath  can  neither  narrate  nor  the  bodily  ear 
hear.     Many  very  wicked  people  came  back  in  repentance, 

276 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

and  all  their  sins  Avere  forgiven  them,  because  this  was  a 
season  of  great  Grace  in  Heaven.  I  wondered  indeed  that 
so  many  were  received.  They  all  begged  and  entreated  nie 
to  come  up  with  them  to  the  higher  regions,  and  on  account 
of  the  great  rejoicing  I  saw  amongst  them  I  consented. 
Then  I  asked  for  my  heavenly  teacher  to  go  with  me  be- 
cause the  danger  of  ascending  such  upper  worlds  is  great, 
where  I  have  never  been  since  I  exist.  I  thus  ascended 
from  grade  to  grade  till  I  came  into  the  Temple  of  the 
Messiah,  in  which  the  Messiah  teaches  Torah  with  all  the 
Tanaim  and  the  Zaddikim  and  the  Seven  Shepherds ;  and 
there  I  saw  a  great  rejoicing.  I  did  not  know  what  this 
rejoicing  meant.  I  thought  at  first  that  this  rejoicing 
might  perhaps  be  on  account  of  my  speedy  death.  But 
they  made  known  to  me  that  I  shall  not  die  yet,  because 
there  is  great  rejoicing  in  Heaven  when  I  make  celestial 
unions  below  by  their  holy  teaching.  But  what  the  re- 
joicing meant,  I  still  did  not  know.  I  asked,  '  When  will 
the  Master  come  ?'  I  was  answered  :  'When  thy  teaching 
shall  be  known  and  revealed  to  the  world,  and  thy  springs 
shall  spread  abroad  that  which  I  have  taught  thee,  and 
that  which  thou  hast  received  here,  and  when  all  men  will 
be  able  to  make  unions  and  ascensions  like  thee.  Then  all 
the  husks  of  worldly  evil  will  disappear,  and  it  will  be  a 
time  of  Grace  and  Salvation."  I  wondered  very  much,  and 
I  felt  great  sorrow  because  the  time  was  to  be  so  long  de- 
layed. Because  when  can  this  be  ?  But  in  this  my  last 
ascent  three  words  that  be  mighty  charms  and  three  heav- 
enly names  I  learnt.  They  are  easy  to  learn  and  to  explain. 
This  cooled  my  mind.  I  believe  that  through  them  peo- 
ple of  my  genius  will  reach  soon  my  degree,  but  I  have  no 
permission  to  reveal  them.  I  have  been  praying  at  least 
for  permission  to  teach  them  to  you,  but  I  must  keep  to 
my  oath.     But  this  I  make  known  to  you,  and  God  will 

277 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

help  3'ou.  Let  yonr  ways  be  directed  towards  God,  let  them 
not  turn  away  from  Him,  When  you  pray  and  study,  in 
every  word  and  utterance  of  your  lijis  direct  your  mind  to 
unification,  because  in  every  letter  there  are  worlds  and 
souls  and  Deity.  The  letters  unify  and  become  a  word, 
and  afterwards  unify  in  the  Deity,  wherefore  try  to  have 
your  soul  absorbed  in  them,  so  that  ail  universes  become 
unified,  which  causes  an  infinite  joy  and  exaltation.  If 
you  understand  the  joy  of  bride  and  bridegroom  a  little 
and  in  a  material  way,  how  much  more  ecstatic  is  the  uni- 
fication of  this  celestial  sort !  0  the  wondrous  day  when 
Evil  shall  at  last  be  worked  out  of  the  universe,  and  God 
be  at  one  with  His  creation.     May  He  be  your  help  !" 

I  sat  a  while  in  dazed  wonder. 

''Dear  Master,"  said  I  at  last,  "you  to  whom  are  un- 
veiled the  secrets  of  all  the  universes,  cannot  you  read  my 
future  r 

"Yes,"  he  said.  I  looked  at  him  breathlessly.  "You 
will  always  be  faithful  to  me,"  he  said  slowly. 

My  eyes  filled  with  tears.     I  kissed  his  hand. 

"And  you  will  marry  my  daughter." 

My  heart  beat  :  "  Which  ?" 

"She  whom  you  have  just  seen." 

"  But  she  is  married,"  I  said,  as  the  blood  swirled  de- 
liciously  in  my  veins. 

"  Her  husband  will  give  her  a  bill  of  divorcement." 

"  And  what  will  become  of  him  ?" 

"  He  will  marry  the  woman  we  have  saved.  And  she, 
too,  will  win  many  souls." 

"  But  how  know  you  ?"  I  whispered,  half  incredulous. 

"So  it  is  borne  in  upon  me,"  said  the  Baal  Shem,  smiling. 

And  so  indeed  after  many  days  it  catne  to  pass.  And  so 
ended  this  first  strange  day  with  the  beloved  Master,  whose 
light  shines  through  the  Avorlds. 

278 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 


VIII 

It  is  now  many  years  since  I  first  saw  the  Baal  Shem, 
and  as  many  since  I  laid  him  in  his  grave,  yet  every  word 
he  spake  to  me  is  treasnred  up  in  my  heart  as  gold,  yea,  as 
fine  gold.  But  the  hand  of  age  is  heavy  upon  me,  and  lest 
I  may  not  live  to  complete  even  this  briefer  story,  I  shall 
set  down  here  but  the  rough  impression  of  his  doctrine  left 
in  my  mind,  hoping  to  devote  a  separate  volume  to  these 
conversations  with  my  divine  Master,  And  this  is  the 
more  necessary,  as  I  said,  since  every  day  the  delusions  and 
impostures  of  those  who  use  his  name  multiply  and  grow 
ranker.  Even  in  his  own  day,  the  Master's  doctrine  was 
already,  as  you  will  have  seen,  sufficiently  distorted  by 
souls  smaller  than  his  own,  and  by  the  refraction  of  dis- 
tance— for  how  should  a  true  image  of  him  pass  from  town 
to  town,  by  forest  and  mountain,  throughout  all  that  vast 
empire  ?  The  Master^s  life  alone  made  clear  to  me  what  I 
had  failed  to  gather  from  his  followers.  Just  as  their  de- 
lirious dancings  and?  shrieks  and  spasms  were  abortive  at- 
tempts to  produce  his  prayer-ecstasy,  so  in  all  things  did 
they  but  caricature  him.  But  now  that  he  is  dead,  and 
these  extravagances  are  no  longer  to  be  checked  by  his  liv- 
ing example,  so  monstrous  are  the  deeds  wrought  and  the 
things  taught  in  his  name,  that  though  the  Chassidim  he 
founded  are  become  —  despite  every  persecution  by  the 
orthodox  Jews,  despite  the  scourging  of  their  bodies  and 
the  setting  of  them  in  the  stocks,  despite  the  excommuni- 
cation of  our  order  and  the  closing  of  our  synagogues,  and 
the  burning  of  oui-''books — a  mighty  sect  throughout  the 
length  and  the  bread  tli  of  Central  Europe,  yet  have  I  little 
pleasure  in  them,  little  joy  in  the  spread  of  the  teaching  to 
which  I  devoted  my  life.     And  sometimes — now  that  my 

279 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Master's  face  no  longer  shines  consolingly  upon  me,  save 
in  dream  and  memory  —  I  dare  to  wonder  if  the  world  is 
better  for  his  having  lived.  And  indeed  at  times  I  find 
myself  sympathizing  with  our  chief  persecutor,  the  saintly 
and  learned  Wilna  Gaon. 

And  first,  since  there  are  now,  alas  !  followers  of  his  who 
in  their  perverted  straining  after  simplicity  of  existence 
wander  about  naked  in  the  streets,  and  even  attend  to  the 
wants  of  nature  in  public,  let  me  testify  that  though  the 
Master  considered  the  body  and  all  its  functions  holy,  yet 
did  he  give  no  countenance  to  such  exaggerations ;  and 
though  in  his  love  for  the  sun  and  the  water  and  bodily 
purity — to  him  a  celestial  symbol — he  often  bathed  in  re- 
tired streams,  yet  was  he  ever  clad  becomingly  in  public  ; 
and  though  he  regarded  not  money,  yet  did  he,  when  nec- 
essary, strive  to  earn  it  by  work,  not  lolling  about  smoking 
and  vaunting  his  Perfection,  pretending  to  be  meditating 
upon  God,  while  others  sj^an  and  toiled  for  him. 

For  in  his  work  too,  my  Master  lived  in  the  hourly  pres- 
ence of  God  ;  and  of  the  patriarchs  and  the  prophets,  the 
great  men  of  Israel,  the  'J'anaim  and  tlie  Amoraim,  and  all 
who  had  sought  to  bring  God's  Kingdom  upon  earth,  that 
God  and  Creation,  Heaven  and  Earth,  might  be  at  one,  and 
the  Messiah  might  come  and  the  divine  peace  fall  upon  all 
the  world.  And  when  he  prayed  and  wept  for  the  sins  of 
his  people,  his  spirit  ascended  to  the  celestial  spheres  and 
held  converse  with  the  holy  ones,  but  this  did  not  puff  him 
up  with  vanity  as  it  doth  those  who  profess  to-day  to  make 
soul-ascensions,  an  experience  of  which  I  for  my  own  part, 
alas  !  have  never  yet  been  deemed  worthy.  For  when  he 
returned  to  earth  the  Baal  Shem  condi.Bted  himself  always 
like  a  simple  man  who  had  never  left  his  native  hamlet, 
whereas  these  heavenly  travellers  feign  to  despise  this  lower 
world,  nay,  some  in  their  conceit  and  arrogance  lose  their 

aso 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

wits  and  give  out  that  they  have  already  been  translated 
and  are  no  longer  mortal.  My  Master  did,  indeed,  hope  to 
be  translated  in  his  lifetime  like  Elijah,  for  he  once  said  to 
me,  Aveeping — 'twas  after  we  returned  from  his  wife's  funer- 
al— "  Now  that  my  wife  is  dead  I  shall  die  too.  Such  a 
saint  might  have  carried  me  with  her  to  Heaven.  She  fol- 
lowed me  unquestioningly  into  the  woods,  lived  without 
society,  summer  and  winter,  endured  joain  and  labor  for 
me,  and  but  for  her  faith  in  me  I  should  have  achieved 
naught."  No  man  reverenced  womankind  more  than  the 
Master ;  in  this,  as  in  so  much,  his  life  became  a  model  to 
mine,  and  his  dear  daughter  profited  by  the  lesson  her 
father  had  taught  me.  We  err  grievously  in  disesteeming 
our  women  :  they  should  be  our  comrades  not  our  slaves, 
and  our  soul-ascensions — to  speak  figuratively — should  be 
made  in  their  loving  companionship. 

My  Master  believed  that  the  breath  of  God  vivified  the 
universe,  renewing  daily  the  work  of  creation,  and  that 
hence  the  world  of  every  day  was  as  inspired  as  the  Torah, 
the  one  throwing  light  on  the  other.  The  written  Law 
must  be  interpreted  in  every  age  in  accordance  with  the 
ruling  attribute  of  God — for  God  governs  in  every  age  by  a 
different  attribute,  sometimes  by  His  Love,  sometimes  by 
His  Power,  sometimes  by  His  Beauty.  "It  is  not  the  niTm- 
ber  of  ordinances  that  we  obey  that  brings  us  into  union 
with  God,"  said  the  Master  ;  '"  one  commandment  fulfilled 
in  and  through  love  of  Him  is  as  effective  as  all."  But  this 
did  not  mean  that  the  other  commandments  were  to  be  dis- 
regarded, as  some  have  deduced  ;  nor  that  one  command- 
ment should  be  made  the  centre  of  life,  as  has  been  done 
by  others.  For.  thougli  the  Zaddik,  who  gave  his  life  to 
helping  his  neighbor's  or  his  enemy's  ass  lying  under  its 
burden,  as  enjoined  in  Exodus  xxiii.  5,  was  not  unworthy 
of  admiration — indeed  he  was  my  own  disciple,  and  desired 

281 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

thus  to  commemorate  the  circnmstances  of  my  first  meet- 
ing with  the  Baal  Shem,^ — 3'ct  he  who  made  it  his  speciality 
never  to  tell  the  smallest  falsehood  was  led  into  greater 
sin.  For  when  his  fame  was  so  hruited  that  it  reached 
even  the  Government  officers,  they,  suspecthig  the  Jews  of 
the  town  of  smuggling,  said  they  would  withdraw  the 
charge  if  the  Saint  Avould  declare  his  brethren  innocent. 
Whereupon  he  prayed  to  God  to  save  him  from  his  dilem- 
ma by  sending  him  death,  and  lo  I  when  the  men  came  to 
fetch  him  to  the  law-court,  they  found  him  dead.  But  a 
true  follower  of  the  Master  should  have  been  willing  to  tes- 
tify for  truth's  sake  even  against  his  brethren,  and  in  my 
humble  judgment  his  death  Avas  not  a  deliverance,  but  a 
punishment  from  on  high. 

Had,  moreover,  the  Saint  practised  the  Humility — which 
my  Master  put  as  the  first  of  the  three  cardinal  virtues — 
he  would  not  have  deemed  it  so  fatal  to  tell  a  lie  once  ;  for 
who  can  doubt  there  was  in  him  more  spiritual  pride  in  his 
own  record  than  pure  love  of  truth  ?  And  had  he  prac- 
tised the  second  of  the  three  cardinal  virtues — Cheerful- 
ness— he  would  have  known  that  God  can  redeem  a  man 
even  from  the  sin  of  lying.  And  had  he  practised  the 
third — Enkindlement — he  would  never  have  narrowed  liim- 
self'to  one  commandment,  and  that  a  negative  one — not  to 
lie.  For  where  there  is  a  living  flame  in  the  heart,  it 
spreads  to  all  the  members. 

"Service  is  its  own  reward,  its  own  joy,"  said  the  Baal 
Shem.  "No  man  should  bend  his  mind  on  noi  doing  sin: 
his  day  should  bo  too  full  of  joyous  service."  The  Mes- 
sianic Age  would  be,  my  Master  taught,  Avhen  every  man 
did  what  was  right  and  just  of  mere  natural  impulse,  not 
even  remembering  that  he  Avas  doing  right,  still  less  being 
uplifted  on  that  account,  for  no  man  is  proud  because  he 
walks  or  sleeps.     Tiien  Avould  Righteousness  be  incarnate 

283 


THE    MASTEE    OF    THE    NAME 

in  the  world,  and  the  devil  finally  defeated,  and  every  man 
wonld  be  able  to  make  celestial  nnions  and  soul-ascensions. 
Many  sufTerings  did  the  Baal  Shem  endure  in  the  years 
that  I  was  witli  him.  Penury  and  persecution  were  often 
his  portion,  and  how  his  wife's  death  Avounded  him  I  have 
already  intimated.  But  it  was  the  revival  of  the  Sabbatian 
lieresy  by  Jacob  Frank  that  caused  him  the  severest  per- 
turbation. This  Frank,  who  was  by  turns  a  Turk,  a  Jew, 
and  a  Catholic,  played  the  role  of  successor  of  Zevi,  as 
Messiah,  ordered  his  followers  to  address  him  as  the  Holy 
Lord,  and.  later,  paraded  his  beautiful  daughter.  Eve,  as 
the  female  Godhead.  Much  of  what  my  grandfather  had 
told  me  of  the  first  Pretender  Avas  repeated,  save  that  as 
the  first  had  made  alliance  with  the  Mohammedans,  so  the 
second  coquetted  Avith  the  Christians.  Hence  those  pub- 
lic disputations,  fostered  by  the  Christians,  in  Avhich  the 
Frankists  did  battle  Avith  the  Talmudists,  and  being  ac- 
credited the  victors,  exulted  in  seeing  the  sacred  books  of 
the  Rabbis  confiscated.  When  a  thousand  copies  of  the 
Talmud  Avere  throAvn  into  a  great  pit  at  Kammieniec,  and 
burned  by  the  hangman,  the  Baal  Shem  shed  tears,  and 
joined  in  the  fast-day  for  the  burning  of  the  Torah.  For 
despite  his  detestation  of  the  devil's  knots,  he  held  that  the 
Talmud  represented  the  oral  laAV  Avhich  expressed  the  con- 
tinuous inspiration  of  the  leaders  of  Israel,  and  that  to  rely 
on  the  Bible  alone  Avas  to  Avorship  the  mummy  of  religion. 
Nor  did  he  grieve  less  over  the  verbal  tournament  of  the 
Talmudists  and  Frankists  in  the  Cathedral  of  Lemberg, 
Avhen  the  Polish  nobility  and  burghers  bought  entrance 
tickets  at  high  prices.  "  The  devil,  not  God,  is  served  by 
religious  disputations,"  said  the  Master.  And  when  at  last 
the  Frankists  Avere  baptized  in  their  thousands,  and  their 
Messiah  in  pompous  Turkish  robes  paraded  the  toAvn  in  a 
chariot  draAvn  by  six  horses,  and  surrounded  by  Turkish 

283 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

guards,  the  Baal  Shem  was  more  pleased  than  grieved  at 
this  ending.  When  these  Jewish  Catholics,  however, 
came  to  grief,  and,  on  the  incarceration  of  Frank  by  the 
Polish  Inquisition,  were  reduced  to  asking  alms  at  cliurch- 
doors,  the  Baal  Shem  Avas  alone  in  refusing  to  taunt  them 
for  still  gazing  longingly  towards  "the  gate  of  Eome,"  as 
they  mystically  called  the  convent  of  Czenstochow,  in 
which  Frank  lay  imprisoned.  And  when  their  enemies 
said  they  had  met  with  their  desert,  the  Baal  Shem  said  : 
"^  There  is  no  sphere  in  Heaven  where  the  soul  remains  a 
shorter  time  than  in  the  sphere  of  merit,  there  is  none 
where  it  abides  longer  than  in  the  sphere  of  love."  Much 
also  in  these  troublous  times  did  the  Baal  Shem  suffer 
from  his  sympathy  with  the  sufferings  of  Poland,  in  its 
fratricidal  war,  when  the  Cossacks  hung  up  together  a  no- 
bleman, a  Jew,  a  monk,  and  a  dog,  with  the  inscription  : 
"All  are  equal."'  Although  these  Cossacks,  and  later  on 
the  Turks,  who,  in  the  guise  of  friends  of  Poland,  turned 
the  Southern  provinces  into  deserts,  rather  helped  than 
hindered  the  cause  of  his  followers  by  diverting  their  per- 
secutors, the  Baal  Shem  palpitated  with  pity  for  all — dogs, 
monks,  noblemen,  and  Jews.  But,  howsoever  he  suffered, 
the  serene  cheerful  faith  on  which  these  were  but  dark 
shadows,  never  ceased  altogether  to  shine  in  his  face. 
Even  on  his  death-bed  his  three  cardinal  virtues  Avere  not 
absent.  For  no  man  could  face  the  Angel  of  Death  more 
cheerfully,  or  anticipate  more  glowingly  the  absorption 
into  the  Divine,  and  as  for  Humilit}^  "0  Vanity!  van- 
ity!" were  his  dying  words;  "even  in  this  hour  of  death 
thou  darest  approach  me  with  thy  temptations.  '  Bethink 
thee,  Israel,  what  a  grand  funeral  procession  will  be  thine 
because  thou  hast  been  so  wise  and  good.'  0  Vanity, 
vanity,  beshrew  thee." 

Now  although  I  was  his  son-in-law,  and  was  with  him  in 

284 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

this  last  hour,  it  is  known  of  all  men  that  not  I,  but  Eabbi 
Baer,  was  appointed  by  him  to  be  his  successor.  For  al- 
though my  acquaintance  with  the  Baal  Shem  did  not  tend 
to  increase  my  admiration  for  his  chief  disciple,  I  never  ex- 
pressed my  full  mind  on  the  subject  to  the  Master,  for  he 
had  early  enjoined  on  me  that  the  obverse  side  of  the  vir- 
tue of  Humility  is  to  think  highly  of  one's  fellow-man,  "  He 
who  loves  the  Father,  God,  will  also  love  the  children." 

But,  inasmuch  as  he  abhorred  profitless  learning,  and  all 
study  for  study's  sake  that  does  not  lead  to  the  infinite 
light,  I  did  venture  to  ask  him  why  he  had  allowed  Baer, 
the  Scholar,  to  go  about  as  his  lieutenant  and  found  com- 
munities in  his  name. 

"Because."  he  said  Avith  beautiful  simplicity,  ^'' I  saw 
that  I  had  sinned  in  making  ignorance  synonymous  with 
virtue.  There  are  good  men  even  among  the  learned — 
men  whose  hearts  are  uncorrupted  by  their  brains.  Baer 
was  such  a  one,  and  since  he  had  great  repute  among  the 
learned  I  saw  that  the  learned  who  would  not  listen  to  a 
simple  man  would  listen  to  him." 

Now.  before  I  say  aught  else  on  this  point,  let  this  say- 
ing of  the  Master  serve  to  rebuke  his  graceless  followers 
who  despise  the  learned  while  they  themselves  have  not 
even  holiness,  and  who  boast  of  their  ignorance  as  though 
it  guaranteed  illumination  ;  but  as  to  Rabbi  Baer  I  will 
boldly  say  that  it  would  have  been  better  for  the  Avorld  and 
the  Baal  Shem's  teachings  had  I  been  appointed  to  hand 
tliem  down.  For  Baer  made  of  the  Master's  living  impulse 
a  code  and  a  creed  which  grew  rigid  and  dead.  And  he 
organized  his  followers  by  external  signs — noisy  praying, 
ablutions,  white  Sabbath  robes,  and  so  forth — so  that  the 
spirit  died  and  the  symbols  remained,  and  now  of  the  tens 
of  thousands  who  call  themselves  Chassidim  and  pray  the 
prayers  and  perform  the  ceremonies  and  wear  the  robes, 

285 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

there  are  not  ten  that  have  the  faintest  notion  of  the  Mas- 
ter's teaching.  For  spirit  is  vohitile  and  flies  away,  but 
symbol  is  solid  and  is  handed  down  religiously  from  gen- 
eration to  generation.  But  the  greatest  abuse  has  come 
from  the  doctrine  of  the  Zaddik.  Perhaps  the  logic  of 
Baer  is  sound,  that  if  God,  as  the  Master  taught,  is  in  all 
things,  then  is  there  so  much  of  Him  in  certain  chosen 
men  that  they  are  themselves  divine.  I  do  not  doubt  that 
the  Masfer  himself  was  akin  to  divinity,  for  though  he  did 
not  profess  to  perform  miracles,  pretending  that  such  heal- 
ing as  he  wrought  Avas  by  virtue  of  his  knowledge  of  herbs 
and  simples,  and  saying  jestingly  that  the  Angel  of  Heal- 
ing goes  with  the  good  physician,  nor  ever  admitting  to 
rae  that  he  had  done  battle  with  demons  and  magicians 
save  figuratively ;  yet  was  there  in  him  a  strange  power, 
which  is  not  given  to  men,  of  soothing  and  redeeming  by 
his  mere  touch,  so  that,  laid  upon  the  brow — as  I  can  per- 
sonally testify — his  hands  would  cure  headache  and  drive 
out  ill-humors.  And  I  will  even  believe  that  there  was  of 
this  divinity  in  Rabbi  Baer.  But  Avhereas  the  Baal  Shem 
veiled  his  divinity  in  liis  manhood,  Baer  strove  to  veil  his 
manhood  in  his  divinity,  and  to  eke  out  his  power  by  arts 
and  policies,  the  better  to  influence  men  and  govern  them, 
and  gain  of  their  gold  for  his  further  operations.  Yet  the 
lesson  of  his  history  to  me  is,  that  if  Truth  is  not  great 
enough  to  prevail  alone,  she  shall  not  prevail  by  aid  of 
cunning.  For  finally  there  will  come  men  who  will  numi- 
fest  the  cunning  without  the  Truth.  So  at  least  it  lias 
been  here.  First  the  Baal  Shem,  the  pure  Zaddik,  then 
Rabbi  Baer,  the  worldly  Zaddik,  and  then  a  host  of  Zad- 
dikim,  many  of  them  having  only  the  outward  show  of 
Sainthood.  For  since  our  otherwise  great  sect  is  split  up 
into  a  thousand  little  sects,  each  boasting  its  own  Zaddik — 
superior  to  all  the  others,  the  only  true  Intermediary  be- 

286 


THE    MASTER    OF    THE    NAME 

tween  God  and  Man,  the  sole  source  of  blessing  and  fount 
of  Grace — and  each  lodging  him  in  a  palace  (to  which  they 
make  pilgrimages  at  the  Festivals  as  of  yore  to  the  Tem- 
ple) and  paying  him  tribute  of  gold  and  treasure  ;  it  is 
palpable  that  these  sorry  Saints  have  themselves  brought 
about  these  divisions  for  their  greater  glory  and  profit. 
And  I  weep  the  more  over  this  spoliation  of  my  Chassidim, 
because  there  is  so  much  perverted  goodness  among  them, 
so  much  self-sacrifice  for  one  another  in  distress,  and  such 
faithful  obedience  to  the  Zaddik,  who  everywhere  monopo- 
lizes the  service  and  the  worship  which  should  be  given  to 
God.  Alas  !  that  a  movement  which  began  with  such  pure 
aspiration,  which  was  to  the  souls  of  me  and  so  many  other 
young  students  as  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary 
land,  that  a  doctrine  which  opened  out  to  young  Israel 
such  spiritual  vistas  and  transcendent  splendors  of  the 
Godhead,  should  end  in  such  delusions  and  distortions. 

Woe  is  me  !  Is  it  always  to  be  thus  with  Israel  ?  Are 
we  to  struggle  out  of  one  slough  only  to  sink  into  another  ? 
But  these  doubts  dishonor  the  Master.  Let  me  be  hum- 
bler in  judging  others,  cheerfiiller  in  looking  out  upon  the 
future,  more  enkindling  towards  the  young  men  who  are 
growing  up  around  me,  and  who  may  yet  pass  on  the 
torch  of  the  Master.  For  them  let  me  recall  the  many 
souls  he  touched  to  purer  flame  ;  let  me  tell  them  of  those 
who  gave  up  posts  and  dignities  to  spread  his  gospel  and 
endured  hunger  and  scorn.  And  let  me  not  forget  to  men- 
tion Rabbi  Lemuel,  the  lover  of  justice,  who  once  when 
his  wife  set  out  for  the  Judgment  House  in  a  cause  aeraiust 
her  maidservant  set  out  with  her  too. 

"I  need  you  not  to  speak  for  me,"  she  said,  in  ill- 
humor;  "I  can  plead  my  own  cause." 

"  Nay,  it  is  not  for  thee  I  go  to  speak,"  he  answered 
mildly  ;  "  it  is  the  cause  of  thy  servant  I  go  to  plead — she 

287 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

who  hath  none  to  defend  her/'  And,  bursting  into  tears, 
he  repeated  the  verse  of  Job  :  "  If  I  did  despise  the  cause 
of  my  manservant  or  of  my  maidservant,  wlien  tliey  con- 
tended with  me,  what  shall  I  do  when  God  risetli  up  ?" 

These  and  many  such  things,  both  of  learned  men  and 
of  simple,  I  hope  yet  to  chronicle  for  the  youths  of  Israel. 
But  above  all  let  the  memory  of  the  Master  himself  be  to 
them  a  melody  and  a  blessing  :  ho  whose  life  taught  me  to 
understand  that  the  greatest  man  is  not  he  who  dwells 
in  the  purple,  amid  palaces  and  courtiers,  hedged  and 
guarded,  and  magnified  by  illusive  pomp,  but  he  who,  talk- 
ing cheerfully  Avitli  his  fellows  in  the  market-place,  humble 
as  though  he  were  nuAvorshipped,  and  poor  as  though  he 
were  unregarded,  is  divinely  enkindled,  so  that  a  light 
shines  from  him  whereby  men  recognize  the  visible  pres- 
ence of  God. 


MAIMON    THE    FOOL    AND    NATHAN    THE 

WISE 


Happy  burghers  of  Berlin  in  their  Sunday  best  trooped 
through  the  Rosenthaler  gate  in  the  cool  of  the  August 
evening  for  their  customary  stroll  in  the  environs  :  few 
escaped  noticing  the  recumbent  ragged  figure  of  a  young 
man,  with  a  long  dirty  beard,  wailing  and  writhing  un- 
oouthly  just  outside  the  gate  :  fewer  inquired  what  ailed 
him. 

He  answered  in  a  strange  mixture  of  jargons,  blurring 
his  meaning  hopelessly  Avith  scraps  of  Hebrew,  of  Jewish- 
German,  of  Polish,  of  Kussian  and  mis-punctuating  it  with 
choking  sobs  and  gasps.  One  good  soul  after  another  turn- 
ed away  helpless.  The  stout  roll  of  Hebrew  manuscript 
the  swarthy,  unkempt  creature  clutched  in  his  hand  grew 
grimier  with  tears.  The  soldiers  on  guard  surveyed  him 
with  professional  callousness. 

Only  the  heart  of  the  writhing  wretch  knew  its  own  bit- 
terness, only  those  tear-blinded  eyes  saw  the  pitiful  pano- 
rama of  a  penurious  Jew's  struggle  for  Culture.  For, 
nursed  in  a  narrow  creed,  he  had  dreamt  the  dream  of 
Knowledge.  To  know  —  to  know  —  Avas  the  passion  that 
consumed  him  :  to  understand  the  meaning  of  life  and  the 
causes  of  things. 

T  289 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

He  saw  himself  a  child  again  in  PoLand,  in  days  of  com- 
parative affluence,  clad  in  his  little  damask  suit,  shocking 
his  father  with  a  question  at  the  very  first  verse  of  the 
Bible,  which  they  began  to  read  together  when  he  was  six 
years  old,  and  which  held  many  a  box  on  the  ear  in  store 
for  his  ingenuous  intellect.  He  remembered  his  early 
efforts  to  imitate  with  chalk  or  charcoal  the  woodcuts  of 
birds  or  foliage  happily  discovered  on  the  title-pages  of 
dry-as-dust  Hebrew  books ;  how  he  used  to  steal  into  the  un- 
occupied, unfurnished  manor-house  and  copy  the  figures  on 
the  tapestries,  standing  in  midwinter,  half-frozen,  the  paper 
in  one  hand,  the  pencil  in  the  other  ;  and  how,  when  these 
artistic  enthusiasms  were  sternly  if  admiringly  checked  by 
a  father  intent  on  siring  a  Rabbi,  he  relieved  the  dreary 
dialectics  of  the  Talmud — so  tedious  to  a  child  uninterest- 
ed in  divorce  laws  or  the  number  of  white  hairs  permis- 
sible in  a  red  cow — by  surreptitious  nocturnal  perusal  of 
a  precious  store  of  Hebrew  scientific  and  historical  works 
discovered  in  an  old  cupboard  in  his  father's  study.  To 
this  chamber,  which  had  also  served  as  the  bedroom  in 
which  the  child  slept  with  his  grandmother,  the  young 
man's  thoughts  returned  with  wistful  bitterness,  and  at 
the  image  of  the  innocent  little  figure  poring  over  the 
musty  volumes  by  the  flickering  firelight  in  the  silence  of 
the  night,  the  mass  of  rags  heaved  yet  more  convulsively. 
How  he  had  enjoyed  putting  on  fresh  wood  after  his  grand- 
mother had  gone  to  bed,  and  grappling  with  the  astronom- 
ical treatise,  ignoring  the  grumblings  of  the  poor  old  lady 
who  lay  a-cold  for  want  of  him.  Ah,  the  lonely  little  boy 
was,  indeed,  in  Heaven,  treading  the  celestial  circles — and 
by  stealth,  which  made  it  all  the  sweeter.  But  that  armil- 
lary  sphere  he  had  so  ably  made  for  himself  out  of  twisted 
rods  had  undone  him  :  his  grandmother,  terrified  by  the 
child's  interest  in  these  mystic  convolutions,  had  betrayed 

290 


MAIMON    AND    XATHAN 

the  magical  instrument  to  his  father.  Other  episodes  of 
the  long  pursuit  of  Knowledge — not  to  be  impeded  even 
by  flogging  pedagogues,  diverted  but  slightly  by  marriage 
at  the  age  of  eleven, — crossed  his  mind.  What  ineffable 
rapture  the  first  reading  of  Maimonides  had  excited,  The 
Guide  of  the  Perplexed  supplying  the  truly  perplexed  youth 
with  reasons  for  the  Jewish  fervor  which  informed  him. 
How  he  had  reverenced  the  great  mediaeval  thinker,  re- 
garding him  as  the  ideal  of  men,  the  most  inspired  of 
teachers.  Had  he  not  changed  his  own  name  to  Maimon 
to  pattern  himself  after  his  Master,  was  not  even  now  his 
oath  under  temptation  :  "I  swear  by  the  reverence  which 
I  owe  my  great  teacher,  Rabbi  Moses  ben  Maimon,  not  to 
do  this  act  ?" 

But  even  Maimonides  had  not  been  able  to  allay  his 
thirst.  Maimonides  was  an  Aristotelian,  and  the  youth 
would  fain  drink  at  the  fountain-head.  He  tramped  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  see  an  old  Hebrew  book  on  the 
Peripatetic  philosophy.  But  Hebrew  was  not  enough ; 
the  vast  realm  of  Knowledge,  which  he  divined  dimly,  must 
lie  in  other  languages.  But  to  learn  any  other  language 
Avas  pollution  to  a  Jew,  to  teach  a  Jew  any  other  was  pollu- 
tion to  a  Christian. 

In  his  facile  comprehension  of  German  and  Latin  books, 
he  had  long  since  forgotten  his  first  painful  steps  :  now  in 
his  agony  they  recurred  to  mock  him.  He  had  learnt  these 
alien  alphabets  by  observing  in  some  bulky  Hebrew  books 
that  when  the  printers  had  used  up  the  letters  of  the  He- 
brew alphabet  to  mark  their  sheets,  they  started  other  and 
foreign  alphabets.  How  he  had  rejoiced  to  find  that  by 
help  of  his  Jewish  jargon  he  could  worry  out  the  meaning 
of  some  torn  leaves  of  an  old  German  book  picked  up  by 
chance. 

The  picture  of  the  innkeeper's  hut,  in  which  he  had  once 

291 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

been  family-tutor,  flew  up  irrelevantly  into  his  mind  —  he 
saw  himself  expounding  a  tattered  Pentateuch  to  a  lialf- 
naked  brood  behind  the  stove,  in  a  smoky  room  full  of 
peasants  sitting  on  the  floor  guzzling  whisky,  or  pervaded 
by  drunken  Russian  soldiery  hacking  the  bedsteads  or 
throwing  the  glasses  in  the  faces  of  the  innkeeper  and  his 
wife.  Poor  Polish  Jews,  cursed  by  poverty  and  tyranny  ! 
"Who  could  be  blamed  for  consoling  himself  with  liquor  in 
such  a  home  ?  Besides,  when  one  was  paid  only  five  tha- 
lers,  one  owed  it  to  oneself  not  to  refuse  a  dram  or  so.  And 
then  there  came  np  another  one-room  home  in  which  a 
youth  with  his  eyes  and  hair  had  sat  all  night  poring  over 
Cabalistic  books,  much  to  the  inconvenience  of  the  newly 
married  Rabbi,  who  had  consented  to  teach  him  this  secret 
doctrine.  For  this  had  been  his  Cabalistic  phase,  when  he 
dreamed  of  conjurations  and  spells  and  the  Mastership  of 
the  Name.  A  sardonic  smile  twitched  the  corners  of  his 
lips,  as  he  remembered  how  the  poor  Rabbi  and  his  pretty 
wife,  after  fruitless  hints,  had  lent  him  the  precious  tomes 
to  be  rid  of  his  persistent  all-night  sittings,  and  the  smile 
lingered  an  instant  longer  as  he  recalled  his  own  futile  at- 
tempts to  coerce  the  supernatural,  either  by  the  incanta- 
tions of  the  Cabalists  or  the  prayer-ecstasy  he  had  learnt 
later  from  the  Chassidim. 

Yes,  he  had  early  discovered  that  all  this  Cabalistic  mys- 
ticism was  only  an  attempt  at  a  scientific  explanation  of 
existence,  veiled  in  fable  and  allegory.  But  the  more  rea- 
sonable he  pronounced  the  Cabalah  to  be,  the  more  he  had 
irritated  the  local  Cabalists  who  refused  to  have  their 
"divine  science"  reduced  to  ''reason."  And  so,  disillu- 
sioned, he  had  rebounded  to  "human  study,"  setting  off 
on  a  pilgrimage  in  the  depth  of  winter  to  borrow  out-of-date 
books  on  optics  and  physics,  and  making  more  enemies  by 
his  obtrusive  knowledge  of  how  dew  came  and  how  light- 

293 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

ning.  It  was  not  till — on  the  strength  of  a  volume  of  An- 
atomical tables  and  a  Medical  dictionary — he  undertook 
cures,  that  he  had  discovered  the  depths  of  his  own  igno- 
rance, achieving  only  the  cure  of  his  own  conceit.  And 
it  was  then  that  Germany  had  begun  to  loom  before  his 
vision  —  a  great,  wonderful  country  where  Truth  dwelt, 
and  Judaism  was  freer,  grander.  Yes,  he  would  go  to 
Germany  and  study  medicine  and  escape  this  asphyxiat- 
ing atmosphere. 

His  sobs,  which  had  gradually  subsided,  revived  at  the 
thought  of  that  terrible  journey.  First,  the  passage  to 
Konigsberg,  accorded  him  by  a  pious  merchant  :  then  the 
voyage  to  Stettin,  paid  for  by  those  young  Jewish  students 
Avho,  beginning  by  laughing  at  his  ludicrous  accent  in  read- 
ing Herr  Mendelssohn's  Phmdon — the  literary  sensation  of 
the  hour  that  had  dumfoundered  the  Voltaireans — had  been 
thunderstruck  by  his  instantaneous  translation  of  it  into 
elegant  Hebrew,  and  had  unanimously  advised  him  to  make 
his  Avay  to  Berlin.  Ah,  but  what  a  voyage  !  Contrary 
winds  that  protracted  the  journey  to  five  weeks  instead  of 
two,  the  only  other  passenger  an  old  woman  who  comforted 
herself  by  singing  hymns,  his  own  dialect  and  the  Pome- 
ranian German  of  the  crew  mutually  unintelligible,  his  bed 
some  hard  stuffed  bags,  never  anything  warm  to  eat,  and 
sea-sickness  most  of  the  time.  And  then,  when  set  down 
safely  on  shore,  without  a  pfennig  or  even  a  sound  pocket 
to  hold  one,  he  had  started  to  walk  to  Frankfort,  oh,  the 
wretched  feeling  of  hopelessness  that  had  made  him  cast 
himself  down  under  a  lime-tree  in  a  passion  of  tears !  Why 
had  he  resumed  hope,  why  had  he  struggled  on  his  way  to 
Berlin,  since  this  fate  awaited  him,  this  reception  was  to 
be  meted  him  ?  To  be  refused  admission  as  a  rogue  and  a 
vagabond,  to  be  rejected  of  his  fellow-Jews,  to  be  hustled  out 
of  his  dream-city  by  the  overseer  of  the  Jewish  gate-house  ! 

293 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Woe  !  "Woe  !  "Was  this  to  be  the  end  of  his  long  aspira- 
tion ?  A  week  ago  he  had  been  so  happy.  After  parting 
with  his  last  possession,  an  iron  spoon,  for  a  glass  of  sour 
beer,  he  had  come  to  a  town  where  his  Rabbinical  diploma 
— to  achieve  that  had  been  child's  play  to  him — procured 
him  the  full  honors  of  the  position,  despite  his  rags.  The 
first  seat  in  the  synagogue  had  been  given  the  tramp,  and 
the  wealthy  president  had  invited  him  to  his  Sabbath  din- 
ner and  placed  him  between  himself  and  his  daughter,  a 
pretty  virgin  of  twelve,  beautifully  dressed.  Through  his 
wine-glass  the  future  had  looked  rosy,  and  his  learned  elo- 
quence glowed  responsively,  but  he  had  not  been  too  drunk 
to  miss  the  wry  faces  the  girl  began  to  make,  nor  to  be  sud- 
denly struck  dumb  with  shame  as  he  realised  the  cause. 
Lying  on  the  straw  of  inn-stables  in  garments  one  has  not 
changed  for  seven  weeks  does  not  commend  even  a  Rabbi 
to  a  dainty  maiden.  The  spell  of  good  luck  was  broken, 
and  since  tlien  the  learned  tramp  had  known  nothing  but 
humiliation  and  hunger. 

The  throb  of  elation  at  the  sight  of  t-he  gate  of  Berlin 
had  been  speedily  subdued  by  the  discovery  that  he  must 
bide  in  the  poorhouse  the  Jews  had  built  there  till  the  el- 
ders had  examined  him.  And  there  he  had  herded  all  day 
long  with  the  sick  and  cripples  and  a  lewd  rabble,  till  even- 
ing brought  the  elders  and  his  doom — a  point-blank  refusal 
to  allow  him  to  enter  the  city  and  study  medicine. 

Why  ?  Why  ?  What  had  they  against  him  ?  He  asked 
himself  the  question  between  his  paroxysms.  And  sudden- 
ly, in  the  very  midst  of  exi)laining  his  hard  case  to  a  new 
passer-by,  the  answer  came  to  him  and  still  further  confused 
his  explanations.  Yes,  it  must  have  been  that  Avolf  in 
Rabbi's  clothing  he  had  talked  to  that  morning  in  the  poor- 
house  !  the  red-bearded  reverend  who  had  lent  so  sympa- 
thetic an  ear  to  the  tale  of  his  life  in  Poland,  his  journev 

294 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

hither;  so  sympathetic  an  eye  to  his  commentary  on  the 
great  Maimonides'  Guide  of  the  Perplexed.  The  vile  spy, 
the  base  informer  I  He  had  told  the  zealots  of  the  town  of 
the  new-comer's  heretical  mode  of  thinking.  They  had 
shut  him  out,  as  one  shuts  out  the  plague. 

So  this  was  the  free  atmosphere,  the  grander  Judaism  he 
had  yearned  for.  The  town  which  boasted  of  the  far-famed 
Moses  Mendelssohn,  of  the  paragon  of  wisdom  and  toler- 
ance, was  as  petty  as  the  Rabbi-ridden  villages  whose  dust 
he  had  shaken  off.  A  fierce  anger  against  the  Jews  and 
this  Mendelssohn  shook  him.  This  then  was  all  he  had 
gained  by  leaving  his  wife  and  children  that  he  might  fol- 
low only  after  Truth  ! 

Perhaps  herein  lay  his  punishment.  But  no !  He  was 
not  to  blame  for  being  saddled  with  a  family.  Marriage  at 
eleven  could  by  no  stretch  of  sophism  be  called  a  voluntary 
act.  He  recalled  the  long,  sordid,  sensational  matrimonial 
comedy  of  which  he  had  been  the  victim  ;  the  keen  com- 
petition of  the  parents  of  daughters  for  the  hand  of  so 
renowned  an  infant  prodigy,  who  could  talk  theology  as 
crookedly  as  a  graybeard.  His  own  boyish  liking  for  Pes- 
sel,  the  rich  rent-farmer's  daughter,  had  been  rudely  set 
aside  when  her  sister  fell  down  a  cellar  and  broke  her  leg. 
Solomon  must  marry  the  damaged  daughter,  the  rent- 
farmer  had  insisted  to  the  learned  boy's  father,  who  had 
replied  as  pertinaciously,  '"No,  I  want  the  straight-legged 
sister." 

The  poor  young  man  writhed  afresh  at  the  thought  of 
his  father's  obstinacy.  True,  liachael  had  a  hobble  in  her 
leg,  but  as  he  had  discovered  years  later  when  a  humble 
tutor  in  her  family,  she  was  an  amiable  creature,  and  as  her 
father  had  offered  to  make  him  joint  heir  to  his  vast  fort- 
une, he  would  have  been  settled  for  life,  wallowing  in  lux- 
ury and  learning.     But  no  !  his  father  was  bent  upon  hav- 

295 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

iug  Pessel,  and  so  he,  Solomon,  had  been  beggared  b}'  his 
father's  fastidious  objection  to  a  dislocated  bone. 

Alas,  how  misfortune  had  dogged  him  !  There  was  that 
wealthy  scholar  of  Schmilowitz  who  fell  in  love  with  his 
fame,  and  proposed  for  him  by  letter  without  ever  having 
seen  him.  What  a  lofty  epistle  his  father  had  written  in 
reply,  a  pastiche  of  Biblical  verses  and  Talmudical  passages, 
the  condition  of  consent  neatly  quoted  from  "  The  Song  of 
Solomon,"  "Thou,  0  Solomon,  must  have  a  thousand 
pieces  of  silver,  and  those  that  keep  the  fruit  thereof  two 
hundred  !"  A  dowry  of  a  thousand  guldens  for  the  boy, 
and  two  hundred  for  the  father  !  The  terms  of  the  Can- 
ticles had  been  accepted,  his  father  had  journeyed  to 
Schmilowitz,  seen  his  daughter-in-law,  and  drawn  up  the 
marriage-contract.  The  two  hundred  guldens  for  himself 
had  been  paid  him  on  the  nail,  and  he  had  even  insisted  on 
having  four  hundred. 

In  vain,  ''Here  is  your  letter,"  the  scholar  liad  protest- 
ed, ''you  only  asked  for  two  hundred." 

"True,"  he  had  replied  ;  "  but  that  was  only  not  to  spoil 
the  beautiful  quotation." 

How  joyously  he  had  returned  home  with  the  four  hun- 
dred guldens  for  himself,  the  wedding-presents  for  his  lit- 
tle Solomon — a  cap  of  black  velvet  trimmed  with  gold  lace, 
a  Bible  bound  in  green  velvet  with  silver  clasps,  and  the 
like. 

The  heart-broken  tramp  saw  the  innocent  boy  that  had 
once  been  he,  furtively  strutting  about  in  his  velvet  cap,  re- 
hearsing the  theological  disputation  he  was  to  hold  at  the 
wedding- table,  and  sniffing  the  cakes  and  preserves  his 
mother  was  preparing  for  the  feast,  what  time  the  mail  was 
bringing  the  news  of  the  sudden  death  of  the  bride  from 
small-pox. 

At  the  moment  he  had  sorrowed  as  little  for  his  unseen 

296 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

bride  as  his  father,  who,  having  made  four  hundred  gul- 
dens by  his  son  in  an  hoiiorable  Avay,  might  now  hope  to 
make  another  four  hundred.  ''The  cap  and  the  silver- 
clasped  Bible  are  already  mine,"  the  child  had  told  him- 
self, "and  a  bride  will  also  not  be  long  wanting,  while  my 
wedding -disputation  can  serve  me  again."  The  mother 
alone  had  been  inconsolable,  cakes  and  preserves  being  of 
a  perishable  nature,  especially  when  there  is  no  place  to 
hide  them  from  the  secret  attacks  of  a  disappointed  bride- 
groom. Only  now  did  poor  Maimon  realize  how  his  life 
had  again  missed  ease  !  For  he  had  fallen  at  last  into  the 
hands  of  the  widow  of  Nesvig,  with  a  public-house  in  the 
outskirts  and  an  only  daughter.  Merely  moderately  pros- 
perous but  inordinately  ambitious,  she  had  dared  to  dream 
of  this  famous  wonder-child  for  her  Sarah.  Refusal  daunt- 
ed her  not,  nor  did  she  cease  her  campaign  till,  after  trying 
every  species  of  trick  and  manoeuvre  and  misrepresentation, 
every  weapon  of  law  and  illegality,  she  had  carried  home 
the  reluctant  bridegroom.  By  what  unscrupulous  warfare 
she  had  wrested  him  from  his  last  chance  of  wealth,  j&our- 
ishing  a  prior  marriage  -  contract  in  the  face  of  the  rich 
merchant  who  unluckily  staying  the  night  in  her  inn,  had 
proudly  shown  her  the  document  which  betrothed  his 
daughter  to  the  renowned  Solomon  !  The  boy's  mother 
dying  at  this  juncture,  the  widow  had  not  shrunk  from 
obtaining  from  the  law-courts  an  attachment  on  the  dead 
body,  by  which  its  interment  was  interdicted  till  the  termi- 
nation of  the  suit.  In  vain  the  rich  merchant  had  kidnap- 
ped the  bridegroom  in  his  carriage  at  dead  of  night,  the  boy 
was  pursued  and  recaptured,  to  lead  a  life  of  constant  quar- 
rel with  his  mother-in-law,  and  exchange  flying  crockery  at 
meal-times;  to  take  refuge  in  distant  tutorships,  and  in  the 
course  of  years,  after  begetting  several  children,  to  drift  fur- 
ther and  further,  and  tinally  disappear  beyond  the  frontier. 

297 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Poor  Sarah  !  He  thought  of  her  now  with  softness.  A 
likeable  wench  enough,  active  and  sensible,  if  with  some- 
thing of  her  mother's  pertinacity.  No  doubt  she  was  still 
the  widow's  right  hand  in  the  public -house.  Ah,  liow 
liandsome  she  had  looked  that  day  Avhen  the  drunken 
Prince  Radziwil,  in  his  mad  freak  at  the  inn,  had  set  ap- 
proving eyes  upon  her:  "  Really  a  pretty  young  woman  I 
Only  she  ought  to  get  a  white  chemise."  A  formula  at 
Avhich  the  soberer  gentlemen  of  his  train  had  given  her  the 
hint  to  clear  out  of  the  way. 

Now  in  his  desj)air,  the  baffled  Pilgrim  of  Knowledge 
turned  yearningly  to  her  image,  wept  weakly  at  the  leagues 
that  separated  liim  from  all  who  cared  for  him.  How  was 
David  growing  up — his  curly-haired  first-born  ;  child  of  his 
fourteenth  year  ?  He  must  be  nearly  ten  by  now,  and  in  a 
few  years  he  would  be  confirmed  and  become  "A  Son  of 
the  Commandment."  A  wave  of  his  own  early  religious 
fervor  came  over  him,  bringing  with  it  a  faint  flavor  of 
festival  dishes  and  far-away  echoes  of  synagogue  tunes. 
Fool,  fool,  not  to  be  content  with  the  Truth  that  content- 
ed his  fathers,  not  to  rest  in  the  bosom  of  the  wife  God  had 
given  him.  Even  his  mother-in-law  was  suffused  with 
softer  tints  through  the  mist  of  tears.  She  at  least  appre- 
ciated him,  had  fought  tooth  and  nail  for  him,  while  tiiese 
gross  Berliners —  !  He  clenched  his  fists  in  fury  :  the  full 
force  of  the  injustice  came  home  to  him  afresh  ;  his  palms 
burnt,  his  brow  was  racked  with  shooting  pains.  His  mind 
wandered  off  again  to  Prince  Radziwil  and  to  that  day  in 
the  public-house.  He  saw  this  capricious  ruler  marching 
to  visit,  with  all  the  pomp  of  war,  a  village  not  four  miles 
from  his  residence  ;  first  his  battalions  of  infantry,  artillery 
and  cavalry,  then  his  body-guard  of  volunteers  from  the 
poor  nobility,  then  his  kitchen-wagons,  then  his  bands  of 
music,  then  his  royal  coach  in  which  he  snored,  overcome 

298 


MAIM  ox    AND    NATHAN 

by  Hungarian  wine,  lastly  his  train  of  lackeys.  Then  he 
saw  his  Serene  Highness  thrown  on  his  mother  -  in  -  law's 
dirty  bed,  booted  and  spurred  ;  for  his  gentlemen,  as  they 
passed  the  inn,  had  thought  it  best  to  give  his  slumbers  a 
more  comfortable  posture.  Here,  surrounded  by  valets, 
pages,  and  negroes,  he  had  snored  on  all  night,  while  the 
indomitable  widow  cooked  her  meals  and  chopped  her 
wood  in  the  very  room  as  usual.  And  here,  in  a  sooty  pub- 
lic-house, with  broken  windows,  and  rafters  supported  by 
undressed  tree-stems,  on  a  bed  swarming  with  insects — the 
prince  had  awoke,  and,  naught  perturbed,  when  the  thing 
was  explained,  had  bidden  his  menials  prepare  a  banquet 
on  the  spot. 

Poor  Maimon's  parched  mouth  watered  now  as  he  thought 
of  that  mad  bacchanal  banquet  of  choice  wines  and  dishes, 
to  which  princes  and  lords  had  sat  down  on  the  dirty 
benches  of  the  public -house.  G-oblets  were  drained  in 
competition  to  the  sound  of  camion,  and  the  judges  who 
awarded  the  prize  to  the  Prince,  were  presented  by  him 
with  estates  comprising  hundreds  of  peasants.  Maimon 
began  to  shout  in  imitation  of  the  cannon,  in  imagination 
he  ran  amuck  in  a  synagogue,  as  he  had  seen  the  prince 
do,  smashing  and  wrecking  everything,  tearing  the  Holy 
Scrolls  from  the  Ark  and  trampling  upon  them.  Yes, 
they  deserved  it,  the  cowardly  bigots.  Down  with  the 
law,  to  hell  with  the  Eabbis.  A-a-a-h !  He  would  grind 
the  phylacteries  under  his  heel — thus.    And  thus  !    And — 

The  soldiers  perceiving  he  was  in  a  violent  fever,  sum- 
moned the  Jewish  overseer,  who  carried  him  back  into  the 
poorhouse. 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 


II 

Maimox  awoke  the  next  morning  with  a  clear  and  lively 
mind,  and  soon  understood  that  he  Avas  sick.  "  God  be 
thanked/'  he  thought  joyfully,  ''now  I  shall  remain  here 
some  days,  during  which  not  only  shall  I  eat  but  I  may 
hope  to  prevail  upon  some  kindly  visitor  to  protect  me. 
Perhaps  if  I  can  manage  to  send  a  message  to  Herr  Men- 
delssohn, he  will  intercede  for  me.  For  a  scholar  must 
always  have  bowels  of  compassion  for  a  scholar." 

These  roseate  expectations  were  rudely  dusked :  the  over- 
seer felt  Maimon's  pulse  and  his  forehead,  and  handing 
him  his  commentary  on  the  Guide  'of  the  Perplexed,  con- 
voyed him  politely  without  the  gate.  Maimon  made  no 
word  of  protest,  he  was  paralyzed. 

"  "What  now,  0  Guide  of  the  Perplexed  ?"  he  cried, 
stonily  surveying  his  hapless  manuscript.  ''0  Moses,  son 
of  Maimon,  thou  by  whom  I  have  sworn  so  oft,  canst  thou 
help  me  now  ?  See,  my  pockets  are  as  emjoty  as  the  heads 
of  thy  adversaries." 

He  turned  out  his  pockets,  and  lo  !  several  silver  pieces 
fell  out  and  rolled  merrily  in  the  roadway.  "A  miracle  !" 
he  shouted.  Then  he  remembered  that  the  elders  had  dis- 
missed him  with  them,  and  that  overcome  by  liis  sentence 
he  had  put  them  mechanically  away.  Yes,  lie  had  been 
treated  as  a  mere  beggar.  A  faint  flush  of  shame  tinged 
his  bristly  cheek  at  the  thought.  True,  lie  had  joartakeu 
of  the  hospitality  of  strangers,  but  that  was  the  due  meed 
of  his  position  as  Eabbi,  as  the  free  passages  to  Konigsberg 
and  Stettin  Avere  tributes  to  his  learning.  Never  had  he 
absolutely  fallen  to  srJniorring  (begging).  He  shook  his 
fist  at  the  city.  He  would  fling  their  money  in  their  faces 
— some   day.      Thus   swearing,  he  repocketed   the  coins, 

300 


MAIMON    AATD    NATHAN 

took  the  first  turning  that  he  met,  and  abandoned  himself 
to  chance.  In  the  mean  inn  in  which  lie  halted  for  refresh- 
ment he  Avas  glad  to  encounter  a  fellow-Jew  and  one  in 
companionable  rags. 

Maimon  made  inquiries  from  him  about  the  roads  and 
whither  they  led,  and  gatliered  with  some  surprise  that  his 
companion  was  a  professional  Sclinorrer. 

"  Are  not  you  ?"  asked  the  beggar,  equally  suprised. 

'•'Certainly  not !"  cried  Maimon  angrily. 

"  What  a  waste  of  good  rags  \"  said  the  Sclinorrer. 

"  What  a  waste  of  good  muscle  !"  retorted  Maimon  ;  for 
the  beggar  was  a  strapping  fellow  in  rude  health.  *'If 
I  had  your  shoulders  I  should  hold  my  head  higher  on 
them." 

The  Schnorrer  shrugged  them.  "  Only  fools  work. 
What  has  work  brought  you  ?  Rags.  You  begin  with 
work  and  end  with  rags.  I  begin  with  rags  and  end  with 
meals." 

"But  have  you  no  self-respect?"  cried  Maimon,  in 
amaze.     "No  morality  ?     No  religion  ?" 

"  I  have  as  much  religion  as  any  Schnorrer  on  the  road," 
replied  the  beggar,  bridling  up.     "  I  keep  my  Sabbath." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Maimon,  smiling,  "our  sages  say, 
Eather  keep  thy  Sabbath  as  a  week-day  than  beg  ;  you  say. 
Rather  keep  thy  week-day  as  a  Sabbath  than  be  dependent 
on  thyself."  To  himself  he  thought,  "That  is  very  witty: 
1  must  remember  to  tell  Lapidoth  that."  And  he  called 
for  another  glass  of  whisky. 

"'  Yes  ;  but  many  of  our  sages,  meseems,  are  dependent 
on  their  womankind.  I  have  dispensed  with  woman  ;  must 
I  therefore  dispense  with  support  likewise  ?" 

Maimon  was  amused  and  sliocked  in  one.  Ho  set  down 
his  whisky,  unsipped.  "  But  he  who  dispenses  with  woman 
lives  in  sin.     It  is  the  duty  of  man  to  beget  posterity,  to 

301 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

found  a  liome  ;  for  what  is  civilization  but  home,  and  what 
is  home  but  religion  ?"  The  wanderer's  tones  were  earnest ; 
he  forgot  his  own  sins  of  omission  in  the  lucidity  with 
Avhicli  his  intellect  saw  the  right  thing, 

"Ah,  you  are  one  of  the  canting  ones,"  said  the  ScJtnor- 
rer.  ''It  strikes  me  you  and  I  could  do  something  bet- 
ter together  than  quarrel.  What  say  you  to  a  jsartner- 
ship  r 

"  In  begging  ?" 

"What  else  have  I  to  offer?  You  are  new  to  the 
country — you  don't  know  the  roads — you  haven't  got  any 
money." 

"  Pardon  me  I     I  have  a  thaler  left." 

"No,  you  haven't — you  pay  that  to  me  for  the  partner- 
ship." 

The  metaphysical  Maimon  was  tickled.  "  But  what  do 
I  gain  for  my  thaler  ?" 

"  My  experience." 

"  But  if  so,  you  gain  nothing  from  my  partnership." 

"A  thaler  to  begin  with.  Then,  you  see,  your  learning 
and  morality  will  draw  when  I  am  at  a  loss  for  quotations. 
In  small  villages  we  go  together  and  produce  an  impression 
of  widespread  misery :  we  speak  of  the  destruction  of  our 
town  by  fire,  of  persecution,  what  you  will.  One  beggar 
might  be  a  liar  :  two  together  are  martyrs." 

"Then  you  beg  only  in  villages  ?" 

"Oh  no.  But  in  towns  we  divide.  You  do  one  half,  I 
do  another.  Then  we  exchange  halves,  armed  with  the 
knowledge  of  who  are  the  beneficent  in  either  half.  It  is 
less  fatiguing." 

"Then  the  beneficent  have  to  give  twice  over." 

"They  have  double  merit.     Charity  breeds  charity." 

"This  is  a  rare  fellow,"  thought  Maimon.  "How 
Lapidoth  would  delight  in  him  !     And  he  sj^eaks  truth.     I 

302 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

know  nothing  of  the  country.  If  I  travel  a  little  with  him 
I  may  learn  much.  And  he,  too,  may  learn  from  me.  He 
has  a  good  headpiece,  and  I  may  be  able  to  instil  into  him 
more  seemly  notions  of  duty  and  virtue.  Besides,  Avhat 
else  can  I  do  ?"  So,  spinning  his  thaler  in  air,  "  Done  !" 
he  cried. 

The  beggar  caught  it  neatly.  "  Herr  Landlord,"  said 
he,  "^another  glass  of  your  excellent  whisky  !"  And,  rais- 
ing it  to  his  lips  when  it  came,  "Brother,  here's  to  our 
partnership." 

"  What,  none  for  me  ?"  cried  Maimon,  crestfallen. 

"Not  till  you  had  begged  for  it,"  chuckled  the  Sclinor- 
rer.  "You  have  had  your  first  lesson.  Herr  Landlord, 
yet  another  glass  of  your  excellent  whisky  !" 

And  so  the  philosopher,  whose  brain  was  always  twisting 
and  turning  the  universe  and  taking  it  to  pieces,  started 
wandering  about  Germany  with  the  beggar  whose  thoughts 
were  bounded  by  his  paunch.  They  exploited  but  a  small 
area,  and  with  smaller  success  than  either  had  anticipated. 
Though  now  and  then  they  Avere  flush,  there  Avas  never  a 
regular  meal ;  and  too  often  they  had  to  make  shift  with 
mouldly  bread  and  water,  and  to  lie  on  stale  straw,  and 
even  on  the  bare  earth. 

"  You  don't  curse  enough,"  the  beggar  often  protested. 

"  But  why  should  one  curse  a  man  who  refuses  one's 
request?"  the  philosopher  would  persist.  "Besides,  he 
is  embittered  thereby,  and  only  the  more  likely  to  re- 
fuse." 

"  Cork  your  philosophy,  curse  you  !"  the  beggar  would 
cry.  "  How  often  am  I  to  explain  to  you  that  cursing 
terrifies  people." 

"  Not  at  all,"  Maimon  would  mutter,  terrified. 

"  No  ?     What  is  Religion,  but  Fear  ?" 

"False  religion,  if  you  will.     But  true  religion,  as  Mai- 

803 


DREAMEES    OF   THE    GHETTO 

monides  sa3's,  is  the  attainment  of  perfection  through  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  the  imitation  of  His  actions." 

Nevertheless,  Avhen  they  begged  together,  Mainion  pro- 
duced an  inarticulate  whine  that  would  do  either  for  a  plea 
or  a  curse.  When  he  begged  alone,  all  the  glib  formulae 
he  had  learnt  from  the  Sdinorrer  dried  up  on  his  tongue. 
But  his  silence  pleaded  more  pitifully  than  his  speech. 
For  he  was  barefooted  and  almost  naked.  Yet  amid  all 
these  untoward  conditions  his  mind  kept  up  its  intermi- 
nable twisting  and  turning  of  the  universe  ;  that  acute  an- 
alysis for  which  centuries  of  over-subtlety  had  prepared  the 
Polish  Jew's  brain,  and  which  was  now  for  the  first  time 
applied  scientifically  to  the  actual  world  instead  of  fan- 
tastically to  the  Bible.  And  it  was  perhaps  when  he  was 
lying  on  the  bare  earth  that  the  riddle  of  existence — 
twinkling  so  defiantly  in  the  stars — tortured  him  most 
keenly. 

Tiius  passed  half  a  year.  Maimon  had  not  learnt  to 
beg,  nor  had  the  beggar  acquired  the  rudiments  of  morality. 
IIow  often  the  philosopher  longed  for  his  old  friend  Lapi- 
doth — the  grave-digger's  son-in-law — to  talk  things  over 
with,  instead  of  this  carnal  vagabond.  They  had  been 
poverty-stricken  enough,  those  two,  but  oh!  how  dif- 
ferently they  had  taken  the  position.  He  remembered 
how  merrily  Lapidoth  had  pinned  his  dropped-off  sleeve 
to  the  back  of  his  coat,  crying,  "  Don't  I  look  like  a 
SchlacJiziz  (nobleman)  ?"  and  how  he  in  return  had  vaunted 
the  superiority  of  his  gaping  shoes  :  "They  don't  squeeze 
at  the  toes."  How  they  had  played  the  cynic,  he  and  the 
grave-digger's  son-in-law,  turning  up  with  remorseless 
spade  the  hollow  bones  of  human  virtue  !  As  convincedly 
as  synagogue-elders  sought  during  fatal  epidemics  for  the 
secret  sins  of  the  congregation,  so  had  they  two  striven  to 
uncover  the  secret  sinfulness  of  self-deceived  righteousness. 

304 


MAIM  ON    AND    NATHAN 

''Bad  self-analysis  is  the  foundation  of  contentment/^ 
Lapidoth  had  summed  it  up  one  day,  as  they  lounged  on  the 
town-wall. 

To  which  Maimon  :  "Then,  friend,  why  are  we  so  content 
to  censure  others  ?  Let  us  be  fair  and  pass  judgment  on  our- 
selves. But  the  contemplative  life  we  lead  is  merely  the 
result  of  indolence,  which  we  gloss  over  by  reflections  on 
tlie  vanity  of  all  things.  We  are  content  Avith  our  rags. 
"Why  ?  Because  we  are  too  lazy  to  earn  better.  We  re- 
proach the  unscholarly  as  futile  people  addicted  to  the 
pleasures  of  sense.  Why  ?  Because,  not  being  constituted 
like  you  and  me,  they  live  differently.  Where  is  our 
superiority,  when  we  merely  follow  our  inclination  as  they 
follow  theirs  ?  Only  in  the  fact  that  we  confess  this 
truth  to  ourselves,  while  they  profess  to  act,  not  to  satisfy 
their  particular  desires,  but  for  the  general  utility." 

''Friend,"  Lapidoth  had  replied,  deeply  moved,  "you 
are  perfectly  right.  If  we  cannot  now  mend  our  faults, 
we  will  not  deceive  ourselves  about  them,  but  at  least  keep 
the  way  open  for  amendment." 

So  they  had  encouraged  each  other  to  clearer  vision  and 
nobler  living.  And  from  such  companionship  to  have 
fallen  to  a  Schnorrer's !     Oh,  it  was  unendurable. 

But  he  endured  it  till  harvest-time  came  round,  bringing 
with  it  the  sacred  season  of  New  Year  and  Atonement,  and 
the  long  chilly  nights.  And  then  he  began  to  feel  tremors 
of  religion  and  cold. 

As  they  crouched  together  in  outhouses,  the  beggar 
snoozing  placidly  in  a  stout  blouse,  the  philosopher  shiver- 
ing in  tatters,  Maimon  saw  his  degradation  more  lucidly 
than  ever.  They  had  now  turned  their  steps  towards 
Poland,  every  day  bringing  Maimon  nearer  to  the  redeem- 
ing influence  of  early  memories,  and  it  was  when  sleeping 
in  the  Jewish  poorhouse  at  Posen — the  master  of  which 
u  805 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

eked  out  his  livelihood  honorably  as  a  jobbing  tailor — that 
Maimon  at  length  found  strength  to  resolve  on  a  breach. 
He  would  throw  himself  before  the  synagogue  door,  and 
either  die  there  or  be  relieved.  AVhen  his  companion 
awoke  and  began  to  plan  out  the  day's  campaign,  '*  No,  I 
dissolve  the  partnership,"  said  he  firmly. 

"  But  how  are  you  going  to  live,  you  good-for-nothing  ?" 
asked  his  astonished  comrade,  ''you  who  cannot  even  beg." 

"  God  will  help,"  Maimon  said  stolidly. 

"  God  help  you  !"  said  the  beggar. 

Maimon  went  off  to  the  school-room.  The  master  was 
away,  and  a  noisy  rabble  of  boys  ceased  their  games  or  their 
studies  to  question  the  tatterdemalion,  and  to  make  fun  of 
his  Lithuanian  accent — his  s's  for  s7/'s.  Nothing  abashed, 
the  philosopher  made  inquiries  after  an  old  friend  of  his 
who,  he  fortunately  recollected,  had  gone  to  Posen  as  the 
Chief  Rabbi's  secretary.  The  news  that  the  Chief  Rabbi 
had  proceeded  to  another  appointment,  taking  with  him  his 
secretary,  reduced  him  to  despair.  A  gleam  of  hope  broke 
Avhen  he  learnt  that  the  secretary's  boy  had  been  left  be- 
hind in  Posen  with  Dr.  Hirsch  Janow,  the  new  Chief  Rabbi. 

And  in  the  event  this  boy  brought  salvation.  He  in- 
formed Dr.  Hirsch  Janow  that  a  great  scholar  and  a  pious 
man  was  accidentally  fallen  into  miserable  straits  ;  and  lo  ! 
in  a  trice  the  good -hearted  man  had  sent  for  Maimon, 
sounded  his  scholarship  and  found  it  plumbless,  approved 
of  his  desire  to  celebrate  the  sacred  festivals  in  Posen,  given 
him  all  the  money  in  his  pockets — the  indurated  beggar  ac- 
cepted it  without  a  blush — invited  him  to  dine  with  him 
every  Sabbath,  and  sent  the  boy  with  him  to  procure  him 
"a  respectable  lodging." 

As  he  left  the  house  that  afternoon,  Maimon  could  not 
help  overhearing  the  high-pitched  reproaches  of  the  Rab- 
bitzin  (Rabbi's  wife). 

306 


MAIM  ON    AND    NATHAN 

"  There  !  You've  again  wasted  my  housekeeping  money 
on  scum  and  riff-raff.     We  shall  never  get  clear  of  debt." 

"Hush  !  hush  !"  said  the  Eabbi  gently,  '^f  he  hears 
you,  you  will  wound  the  feelings  of  a  great  scholar.  The 
money  was  given  to  me  to  distribute." 

"That  story  has  a  beard,"  snapped  the  Eabbitzin. 

"  He  is  a  great  saint,"  the  boy  told  Maim  on  on  the  way. 
"  He  fasts  every  day  of  the  week  till  nightfall,  and  eats  no 
meat  save  on  Sabbath.  His  salary  is  small,  but  everybody 
loves  him  far  and  wide  ;  he  is  named  'the  keen  scholar.'" 
Maimon  agreed  with  the  general  verdict.  The  gentle  ema- 
ciated saint  had  touched  old  springs  of  religious  feeling, 
and  brought  tears  of  more  than  gratitude  to  his  eyes. 

His  soul  for  a  moment  felt  the  appeal  of  that  inner  world 
created  by  Israel's  heart,  that  beautiful  world  of  tenderest 
love  and  sternest  law,  wherein  The-Holy-One-Blessed-Be- 
He  (who  has  chosen  Israel  to  preach  holiness  among  tfie 
peoples),  mystically  enswathed  with  praying-shawl  and  phy- 
lacteries, prays  to  Himself,  "May  it  be  My  will  that  My 
pity  overcome  My  wrath." 

And  what  was  his  surprise  at  finding  himself  installed, 
not  in  some  mean  garret,  but  in  the  study  of  one  of  the 
leading  .Jews  of  the  town.  The  climax  was  reached  when 
he  handed  some  coppers  to  the  housewife,  and  asked  her  to 
get  him  some  gruel  for  supper. 

"Nay,  nay,"  said  the  housewife,  smiling.  "The  Chief 
Eabbi  has  not  recommended  us  to  sell  you  gruel.  My  hus- 
band and  my  son  are  both  scholars,  and  so  long  as  you 
choose  to  tarry  at  Posen  they  will  be  delighted  if  you  will 
honor  our  table." 

Maimon  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears  ;  but  the  evidence 
of  a  sumptuous  supper  was  irrefusable.  And  after  that  he 
was  conducted  to  a  clean  bed  !  O  the  luxurious  ache  of 
stretching  one's  broken  limbs  on  melting  feathers  !    the 

307 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

nestling  ecstasy  of  daiuty-smelliug  sheets  after  half  a  year 
of  outhouses  ! 

It  was  the  supreme  felicity  of  his  life.  To  wallow  in 
such  a  wave  of  happiness  had  never  been  his  before,  was 
never  to  be  his  again.  Shallow  pates  might  prate,  he  told 
himself,  but  what  pleasure  of  the  intellect  could  ever  equal 
that  of  the  senses  ?  Could  it  possibly  pleasure  him  as 
much  even  to  fulfil  his  early  Maimonidean  ideal — the  at- 
tainment of  Perfection  ?  Perpending  which  problem,  the 
philosopher  fell  deliciously  asleep. 

Late,  very  late,  the  next  morning  he  dragged  himself 
from  his  snug  cocoon,  and  called,  in  response  to  a  sum- 
mons, upon  his  benefactor. 

"Well,  and  how  do  you  like  your  lodging?"  said  the 
gentle  Rabbi. 

Maimon  burst  into  tears.  "  I  have  slept  in  a  bed  !"  he 
sobbed,  "  I  have  slept  in  a  bed  I" 

"  Two  days  later,  clad — out  of  the  Rabbitzin's  house- 
keeping money  —  in  full  rabbinical  vestments,  with  clean 
linen  beneath,  the  metamorphosed  Maimon,  cheerful  of 
countenance,  and  godly  of  mien,  presented  himself  at  the 
poorhouse,  where  the  tailor  and  his  wife,  as  well  as  his 
Avhilom  mate — all  of  them  acquainted  with  his  good  fortune 
— expected  him  with  impatience.  The  sight  of  him  trans- 
ported them.  The  poor  mother  took  her  babe  in  her  arms, 
and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  begged  the  Rabbi's  blessings ; 
the  beggar  besought  his  forgiveness  for  his  rough  treat- 
ment, and  asked  for  an  alms. 

Maimon  gave  the  little  one  his  blessing,  and  the  Schnorrer 
all  he  had  in  his  pocket,  and  went  back  deeply  affected. 

Meantime  his  fame  had  spread  :  all  the  scholars  of  the 
town  came  to  see  and  chop  theology  with  this  illustrious 
travelling  Rabbi.  He  became  a  tutor  in  a  wealthy  family  : 
his  learning  was  accounted  superhuman,  and  he  himself 

308 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

almost  divine.  A  doubt  he  expressed  as  to  the  healthiness 
of  a  consumiDtive-looking  child  brought  him  at  her  death 
the  honors  of  a  prophet.  Disavowal  was  useless  :  a  new 
prophet  had  arisen  in  Israel. 

And  so  two  happy  years  passed — honorably  enough,  un- 
less the  philosopher's  forgetfulness  of  his  family  be  counted 
against  him.  But  little  by  little  his  restless  brain  and  body 
began  to  weary  of  these  superstitious  surroundings. 

It  began  to  leak  out  that  he  was  a  heretic  :  his  rare 
appearances  in  the  synagogue  were  noted ;  daring  sayings 
of  his  were  darkly  whispered  ;  Persecution  looked  to  its 
weapons. 

Maimon's  recklessness  was  whetted  in  its  turn.  At  the 
entrance  to  the  Common  Hall  in  Posen  there  had  been, 
from  time  immemorial,  a  stag-horn  fixed  into  the  wall,  and 
an  equally  immemorial  belief  among  the  Jews  that  whoso 
touched  it  died  on  the  spot.  A  score  of  stories  in  proof 
Avere  hurled  at  the  scoffing  Maimon.  And  so,  passing  the 
stag -horn  one  day,  he  cried  to  his  comjianions  :  "You 
Posen  fools,  do  you  think  that  any  one  who  touches  this 
horn  dies  on  the  spot  ?     See,  I  dare  to  touch  it.^' 

Their  eyes,  dilating  with  horror,  followed  his  sacrilegious 
hand.  They  awaited  the  thud  of  his  body.  Maimon  walked 
on,  smiling. 

What  had  he  proved  to  them  ?  Only  that  he  was  a  hate- 
ful heretic,  a  profaner  of  sanctuaries. 

The  Avounded  fanaticism  that  now  shadowed  him  with  its 
hatred  provoked  him  to  answering  excesses.  The  remnant 
of  religion  that  clung,  despite  himself,  to  his  soul,  irritated 
him.  Would  not  further  culture  rid  him  of  the  incubus  ? 
His  dream  of  Berlin  revived.  True,  bigotry  barked  there 
too,  but  culture  went  on  its  serene  course.  The  fame  and 
influence  of  Mendelssohn  had  grown  steadily,  and  it  was 
now  at  its  apogee,  for  Lessing  had  written  Nathan  Der 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Weise,  and  in  the  tempest  that  followed  its  production,  and 
despite  the  ban  placed  on  the  play  and  its  author  in  both 
Catholic  and  Protestant  countries,  the  most  fanatical  Chris- 
tain  foes  of  the  bold  freelance  could  not  cry  that  the  char- 
acter was  impossible. 

For  there — in  the  very  metropolis — lived  the  Sage  him- 
self, the  David  to  the  dramatist's  Jonathan,  the  member 
of  the  Coffee-House  of  the  Learned,  the  friend  of  Prince 
Lippe  -  Schaumberg,  the  King's  own  Protected  Jew,  in 
every  line  of  whose  countenance  Lavater  kept  insisting  the 
unprejudiced  phrenologist  might  read  the  soul  of  Socrates. 

And  he,  Maimon,  no  less  blessed  with  genius,  what  had 
he  been  doing,  to  slumber  so  long  on  these  soft  beds  of 
superstition  and  barbarism,  deaf  to  that  early  call  of  Truth, 
that  youthful  dream  of  Knowledge  ?  Yes,  he  would  go 
back  to  Berlin,  he  would  shake  off  the  clinging  mists  of 
the  Ghetto,  he  would  be  the  pioneer  of  his  people's  eman- 
cipation. His  employers  had  remained  throughout  staunch 
admirers  of  his  intellect.  But  despite  every  protest  he 
bade  them  farewell,  and  purchasing  a  seat  on  the  Frankfort 
post  with  his  scanty  savings  set  out  for  Berlin.  No  men- 
dicity committees  lay  in  wait  for  the  prosperous  passenger, 
and  as  the  coach  passed  through  the  Rosenthaler  gate,  the 
brave  sound  of  the  horn  seemed  to  Maimon  at  once  a  flour- 
ish of  triumph  over  Berlin  and  of  defiance  to  superstition 
and  ignorance. 

Ill 

But  superstition  and  ignorance  were  not  yet  unhorsed. 
The  Jewish  police  -  officers,  though  they  allowed  coach- 
gentry  to  enter  and  take  up  their  quarters  where  they 
pleased,  did  not  fail  to  pry  into  their  affairs  the  next  day, 
as  well  for  the  protection  of  the  Jewish  community  against 

310 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

equivocal  intruders  as  in  accordance  with  its  responsibility 
to  the  State. 

In  his  modest  lodging  on  the  New-Market,  Maimon  had 
to  face  the  suspicious  scrutiny  of  the  most  dreaded  of  these 
detectives,  who  was  puzzled  and  jDrovoked  by  a  belief  he 
had  seen  him  before,  "  evidently  looking  on  me,"  as  Mai- 
mon put  it  afterwards,  "as  a  comet,  which  conies  nearer  to 
the  earth  the  second  time  than  the  first,  and  so  makes  the 
danger  more  threatening." 

Of  a  sudden  this  lynx-eyed  bully  espied  a  Hebrew  Logic 
by  Maimonides,  annotated  by  Mendelssohn.  "  Yes  !  yes  !" 
he  shrieked  ;  "  that^s  the  sort  of  books  for  me  !"  and,  glar- 
ing threateningly  at  the  philosopher,  "Pack,"  he  said. 
"  Pack  out  of  Berlin  as  quick  as  you  can,  if  you  don't  wish 
to  be  led  out  with  all  the  honors." 

Maimon  was  once  more  in  desperate  case.  His  money 
was  all  but  exhausted  by  the  journey,  and  the  outside  of 
the  liosenthaler  gate  again  menaced  him.  All  his  suffer- 
ings had  availed  him  nothing  :  he  Avas  back  almost  at  his 
starting-point. 

But  fortune  favors  fools.  In  a  countryman  settled  at 
Berlin  he  found  a  protector.  Then  other  admirers  of  tal- 
ent and  learning  boarded  and  lodged  him.  The  way  was 
now  clear  for  Culture. 

Accident  determined  the  line  of  march.  Maimon  res- 
cued Wolff's  Metajjhj/sics  from  a  butterman  for  two  gro- 
schen.  Wolff,  he  knew,  was  the  pet  philosopher  of  the 
day.  Mendelssohn  himself  had  been  inspired  by  him — the 
great  brother-Jew  with  whom  he  might  now  hope  some 
day  to  talk  face  to  face. 

Maimon  was  delighted  with  his  new  treasure  —  such 
mathematical  exposition,  such  serried  syllogisms  —  till  it 
came  to  theology.  "  The  Principle  of  Sufficient  Reason" — ■ 
yes,  it  was  a  wonderful  discovery.     But  as  proving  God  ? 

311 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

No — for  that  there  was  not  Sufficient  Reason.  Nor  could 
Maimon  harmonize  these  new  doctrines  with  liis  Maimon- 
ides  or  his  Aristotle.  Happy  thouglit  !  He  would  set 
forth  his  doubts  in  Hebrew,  he  would  send  the  manuscript 
to  Herr  Mendelssohn.  Flushed  by  the  hope  of  the  great 
man's  acquaintance,  he  scribbled  fervidly  and  posted  the 
manuscript. 

He  spent  a  sleepless  night. 

Would  the  lion  of  Berlin  take  any  notice  of  an  obscure 
Polish  Jew  ?  Maimon  was  not  left  in  suspense.  Mendels- 
sohn replied  by  return.  He  admitted  the  justice  of  his 
correspondent's  doubts,  but  begged  him  not  to  be  discour- 
aged by  them,  but  to  continue  his  studies  with  unabated 
zeal.     0,  judge  in  Israel  !     Nathan  Der  Weise,  indeed. 

Fired  with  such  encouragement,  Maimon  flung  himself 
into  a  Hebrew  dissertation  that  should  shatter  all  these 
theological  cobwebs,  that  by  an  uncompromising  Ontology 
should  bring  into  doubt  the  foundations  of  Revealed  as 
Avell  as  of  Natural  Theology.  It  was  a  bold  thing  to  do, 
for  since  he  was  come  to  Berlin,  and  had  read  more  of  his 
books,  he  had  gathered  that  Mendelssohn  still  professed 
Orthodox  Judaism.  A  paradox  this  to  Maimon,  and 
roundly  denied  as  impossible  when  he  first  heard  of  it.  A 
man  who  could  enter  the  lists  with  the  doughtiest  cham- 
pions of  Christendom,  whose  German  prose  was  classical, 
who  could  philosophize  in  Socratic  dialogue  after  the  fash- 
ion of  Plato — such  a  man  a  creature  of  the  Ghetto  !  Doubt- 
less he  took  his  Judaism  in  some  vague  Platonic  way  ;  it 
was  impossible  to  imagine  him  the  literal  bond-slave  of  that 
minute  ritual,  winding  phylacteries  round  his  left  arm  or 
shaking  himself  in  a  praying- shawl.  Anyhow  here  —  in 
logical  lucid  Hebrew — were  Maimon's  doubts  and  difficul- 
ties. If  Mendelssohn  was  sincere,  let  him  resolve  them, 
and  earn  the  blessings  of  a  truly  Jewish  soul.     If  he  was 

312 


MAIM  ON    AND    NATHAN 

unable  to  answer  them,  let  him  give  np  his  orthodoxy,  or 
be  proved  a  fraud  and  a  time-server.  Amicus  Mendelssohn 
seel  mag  is  arnica  Veritas. 

In  truth  there  was  something  irritating  to  the  Polish 
iew  in  the  great  German's  attitude,  as  if  it  held  some  latent 
reproach  of  his  own.  Only  a  shallow  thinker,  he  felt,  could 
combine  culture  and  spiritual  comfort,  to  say  nothing  of 
worldly  success.  lie  had  read  the  much-vaunted  PhcBclon 
which  Lutheran  Germany  hailed  as  a  counterblast  to  the 
notorious  "Berlin  religion,"  restoring  faith  to  a  despond- 
ent world  mocked  out  of  its  Christian  hopes  by  the  fashion- 
able French  wits  and  materialists  under  the  baneful  inspi- 
ration of  Voltaire,  Avhom  Germany's  own  Frederick  had  set 
on  high  in  his  Court.  But  what  a  curious  assumption  for 
a  Jewish  thinker  to  accept,  that  unless  we  are  immortal, 
our  acts  in  this  world  are  of  no  consequence  !  Was  not  he, 
Maimon,  leading  a  high-minded  life  in  pursuit  of  Truth, 
with  no  such  hope  ?  ''If  our  soul  were  mortal,  then  Rea- 
son would  be  a  dream,  which  Jupiter  has  sent  us  in  order 
that  we  might  forget  our  misery  ;  and  we  should  be  like 
the  beasts,  only  to  seek  food  and  die."  Nonsense  !  Ehet- 
oric  !  True,  his  epistles  to  Lavater  were  effective  enough, 
there  was  courage  in  his  public  refusal  of  Christianity, 
nobility  in  his  sentiment  that  he  preferred  to  shame  anti- 
Jewish  prejudice  by  character  rather  than  by  controversy. 
He,  Maimon,  would  prefer  to  shame  it  by  both.  But  this 
Jerusalem  of  Mendelssohn's  !  Could  its  thesis  really  be 
sustained  ?  Judaism  laid  no  yoke  upon  belief,  only  on  con- 
duct ?  was  no  reason-confounding  dogma  ?  only  a  revealed 
legislation  ?  A  Jew  gave  his  life  to  the  law  and  his  heart 
to  Germany  I  Or  France,  or  Holland,  or  the  Brazils  as  the 
case  might  be  ?  Palestine  must  be  forgotten.  Well,  it 
was  all  bold  and  clever  enough,  but  was  it  more  than  a  half- 
way house  to  assimilation  with  the  peoples  ?    At  any  rate 

313 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

liere  was  a  Polish  brother's  artillery  to  meet — more  deadly 
than  that  of  Lavater,  or  the  stupid  Christians. 

Again,  but  with  aoiiter  anxiety,  he  awaited  Mendelssohn's 
reply. 

It  came — an  invitation  for  next  Saturday  afternoon.  Aha  I 
The  outworks  were  stormed.  The  great  man  recognized  in 
him  a  worthy  foe,  a  brother  in  soul.  Gratitude  and  vanity 
made  the  visit  a  delightful  anticipation.  What  a  wit-com- 
bat it  would  be  !  How  he  would  marshal  his  dialectic  epi- 
grams !     If  only  Lapidoth  could  bo  there  to  hear  I 

As  the  servant  threw  open  the  door  for  him,  revealing  a 
suite  of  beautiful  rooms  and  a  fine  company  of  gentlefolks, 
men  with  powdered  wigs  and  ladies  with  elegant  toilettes, 
Maimon  started  back  with  a  painful  shock.  An  under- 
consciousness  of  mud-stained  boots  and  a  clumsily  cut 
overcoat,  mixed  itself  painfully  with  this  impression  of 
pretty,  scented  women,  and  the  clatter  of  tongues  and 
coffee-cups.  He  stood  rooted  to  the  threshold  in  a  sudden 
bitter  realization  that  the  great  world  cared  nothing  about 
metaphysics.  Ease,  fine  furniture,  a  position  in  the  world 
— these  were  the  things  that  counted.  Why  had  all  his 
genius  brought  him  none  of  these  things  ?  Wifeless,  child- 
less, moneyless,  he  stood,  a  solitary  soul  wrestling  with 
problems.  How  had  Mendelssohn  managed  to  obtain 
everything  ?  Doubtless  he  had  luid  a  better  start,  a  rich 
father,  a  University  training.  His  resentment  against  the 
prosperous  philosopher  rekindled.  He  shrank  back  and 
closed  the  door.  But  it  was  opened  instantly  again  from 
within.  A  little  hunchback  witli  shining  eyes  hurried 
towards  him. 

"  Herr  Maimon  ?"  he  said  inquiringly,  holding  out  his 
hand  with  a  smile  of  welcome. 

Startled,  Maimon  laid  his  hand  witliout  speaking  in  that 
cordial  palm.     So  this  was  the  man  he  had  envied.     No 

314 


MAIM ON    AND    NATHAN 

one  had  ever  told  him  that  "  Nathan  der  Weise"  was  thus 
afflicted.  It  was  as  soul  that  he  had  appealed  to  the  imag- 
ination of  the  world  ;  even  vulgar  gossip  had  been  silent 
about  his  body.  But  how  this  deformity  must  embitter 
his  success. 

Mendelssohn  coaxed  him  within,  complimenting  him  pro- 
fusely on  his  writings  :  he  was  only  too  familiar  with  these 
half -shv,  half- aggressive  young  Poles,  whose  brains  were 
bursting  with  heretical  ideas  and  sick  fantasies.  They 
brought  him  into  evil  odor  with  his  orthodox  brethren,  did 
these  "  Jerusalem  Werthers,''  but  who  should  deal  with 
them,  if  not  he  that  understood  them,  that  could  handle 
them  delicately  ?  What  was  to  Maimon  a  unique  episode 
was  to  his  host  an  everyday  experience. 

Mendelssohn  led  Maimon  to  the  embrasure  of  a  Avindow  : 
he  brought  him  refreshments — which  the  young  man  de- 
voured uncouthly  —  he  neglected  his  fashionable  guests, 
whose  unceasing  French  babble  proclaimed  their  ability  to 
get  on  by  themselves,  to  gain  an  insight  into  this  gifted 
young  man's  soul.  He  regarded  each  new  person  as  a  com- 
plicated piece  of  wheelwork,  which  it  was  the  wise  man's 
business  to  understand  and  not  be  angry  with.  But  having 
captured  the  secret  of  the  mechanism,  it  was  one's  duty  to 
improve  it  on  its  own  lines. 

"Your  dissertation  displays  extraordinary  acumen,  Herr 
Maimon,"  he  said,  "Of  course  you  still  suffer  from  the  Tal- 
mudic  method  or  rather  want  of  method.  But  you  have  a 
real  insight  into  metaphysical  problems.  And  yet  you  have 
only  read  Wolff !  You  are  evidently  not  a  Chamor  nose  Sefa- 
rim  (a  donkey  bearing  books)."  He  used  the  Hebrew  prov- 
erb to  make  the  young  Pole  feel  at  home,  and  a  half  smile 
hovered  around  his  sensitive  lips.  Even  his  German  took  on 
a  winning  touch  of  jargon  in  vocabulary  and  accentuation, 
though  to  kill  the  jargon  was  one  of  the  ideals  of  his  life. 

315 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'  Nay,  Herr  Mendelssohn,''  replied  Maimon  modestly ; 
"you  must  not  forget  The  Guide  of  tJie  Perplexed.  It  Avas 
the  inspiration  of  my  youth  !" 

"  Was  it  ?"  cried  Mendelssohn  delightedly.  "  So  it  was 
of  mine.  In  fact  I  tell  the  Berliners  Maimouides  was  re- 
sponsible for  my  hump,  and  some  of  them  actually  be- 
lieve I  got  it  bending  over  him.'' 

This  charming  acceptance  of  his  affliction  touched  the 
sensitive  Maimon  and  i)ut  him  more  at  ease  than  even  the 
praise  of  his  Avritings  and  the  fraternal  vocabulary.  "In 
my  country,"  he  said,  "a  perfect  body  is  thought  to  mark 
the  fool  of  the  family !  They  believe  the  finest  souls  pre- 
fer to  inhabit  imperfect  tenements. "^ 

Mendelssohn  bowed  laughingly.  "  An  excellently  turned 
compliment !  At  this  rate  you  Avill  soon  shine  in  our  Ber- 
lin society.     And  how  long  is  it  since  you  left  Poland  ?" 

"  Alas  I  I  have  left  Poland  more  tlian  once.  I  should 
have  had  the  honor  and  the  happiness  of  making  your  ac- 
quaintance earlier,  had  I  not  been  stopped  at  the  Rosen- 
thaler  gate  three  years  ago." 

"At  the  Rosenthaler  gate  !     If  I  had  only  known  !" 

The  tears  came  into  iMaimon's  eyes — tears  of  gratitude, 
of  self-pity,  of  regret  for  the  lost  years.  Ho  Avas  on  his 
feet  now,  he  felt,  and  his  feet  were  on  the  right  road,  lie 
had  found  a  powerful  protector  at  last.  "  Think  of  my 
disappointment,"  he  said  tremulously,  "after  travelling  all 
the  way  from  Poland." 

"Yes,  I  know.  I  was  all  but  stopped  at  the  gate  my- 
self," said  Mendelssohn  musingly. 

"You?" 

"Yes — when  I  was  a  lad." 

"Aren't  you  a  native  of  Berlin,  then  ?" 

"  No,  I  was  born  in  Dessau.  Not  so  far  to  tramp  from 
as  Poland.     But  still  a  goodish  stretch.     It  took  me  five 

816 


MAIM  ON    AND    NATHAN 

days — I  am  not  a  Hercules  like  yon — and  had  I  not  man- 
aged to  stammer  out  that  I  wished  to  enrol  myself  among 
the  pupils  of  Dr.  Frankel,  the  new  Chief  Eabbi  of  the  city, 
the  surly  Cerberus  would  have  slammed  the  gate  in  my  face. 
My  luck  was  that  Frankel  had  come  from  Dessau,  and  had 
been  my  teacher.  I  remember  standing  on  a  hillock  cry- 
ing as  he  was  leaving  for  Berlin,  and  he  took  me  in  his 
arms  and  said  I  should  also  go  to  Berlin  some  day.  So 
when  I  appeared  he  had  to  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  Then  you  had  nothing  from  your  parents  ?" 

"  Only  a  beautiful  handwriting  from  my  father  which 
got  me  copying  jobs  for  a  few  groschens  and  is  now  the  joy 
of  the  printers.  He  was  a  scribe,  you  know,  and  wrote  the 
Scrolls  of  the  Law.      But  he  wanted  me  to  be  a  pedlar." 

''  A  pedlar  !"  cried  Maimon,  open-eyed. 

"Yes,  the  money  would  come  in  at  once,  you  see.  I  had 
quite  a  fight  to  persuade  him  I  would  do  better  as  a  Eabbi. 
I  fear  I  was  a  very  violent  and  impatient  youngster.  He 
didn't  at  all  believe  in  my  Rabbinical  future.  And  he  was 
right  after  all — for  a  member  of  a  learned  guild,  Jewish  or 
Christian,  have  I  never  been." 

'*  You  had  a  hard  time,  then,  when  you  came  to  Ber- 
lin ?"  said  Maimon  sympathetically. 

Mendelssohn's  eyes  had  for  an  instant  an  inward  look, 
then  he  quoted  gently,  '•'  Bread  with  salt  shalt  thou  eat, 
water  by  measure  shalt  thou  drink,  upon  the  hard  earth 
shalt  thou  sleep,  and  a  life  of  anxiousness  shalt  thou  live, 
and  labor  in  the  study  of  the  law  I" 

Maimon  thrilled  at  the  quotation  :  the  fine  furniture  and 
the  fine  company  faded,  and  he  saw  only  the  soul  of  a  fel- 
low-idealist to  which  these  things  were  but  unregarded 
background. 

"Ah  yes,"  went  on  Mendelssohn.  "  You  are  thinking  I 
don't  look  like  a  person  who  ouce  notched  his  loaf  into 

317 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

sections  so  as  not  to  eat  too  much  a  clay.  Well,  let  it  con- 
sole you  Avith  the  thought  that  there's  a  comfortable  home 
in  Berlin  waiting  for  you,  too.*' 

Poor  Maimon  stole  a  glance  at  the  buxom,  blue -eyed 
matron  doiug  the  honors  of  her  salon  so  gracefully,  as- 
sisted by  two  dazzling  young  ladies  in  Parisian  toilettes — 
evidently  her  daughters — and  lie  groaned  at  the  thought  of 
his  peasant-wife  and  his  uncouth,  superstition-swaddled 
children  :  decidedly  he  must  give  Sarah  a  divorce. 

"  I  can't  delude  myself  Avith  such  day-dreams,"  he  said 
hopelessly. 

"Wait  I  Wait  !  So  long  as  you  don't  day-dream  your 
time  away.  That  is  the  danger  with  you  clever  young 
Poles — you  are  such  dreamers.  Everything  in  this  life  de- 
pends on  steadiness  and  patience.  When  we  first  set  up 
hospitality,  Fromet — my  wife— and  I,  Ave  had  to  count  the 
almonds  and  raisins  for  dessert.  You  see,  Ave  only  began 
Avith  a  little  house  and  garden  in  the  outskirts,  the  main 
furniture  of  Avhich,"  he  said,  laughing  at  the  recollection, 
*'Avas  twenty  china  apes,  life-size." 

"  TAventy  china  apes  I" 

"  Yes,  like  every  Jewish  bridegroom,  I  had  to  buy  a 
quantity  of  china  for  the  support  of  the  local  manufactory, 
and  that  was  what  fell  to  me.  Ah,  my  friend,  Avhat  have 
not  the  Jews  of  Germany  to  support !  The  taxes  are  still 
Avitli  us,  but  the  Rishus  (malice)  " — again  he  smiled  confi- 
dentially at  the  HebrcAV-jargon  Avord — "  is  less  every  day. 
Why,  a  Jew  couldn't  Avalk  the  streets  of  Berlin  Avithout  be- 
ing hooted  and  insulted,  and  my  little  ones  used  to  ask, 
'  Father,  is  it  Avicked  to  be  a  Jew  ?'  I  thank  the  Al- 
mighty that  at  the  end  of  my  days  I  have  lived  to  see  the 
Jewish  question  raised  to  a  higher  plane." 

''I  should  rather  thank  you,"  cried  Maimon,  Avith  scepti- 
cal enthusiasm. 

318 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

"  Me  ?"  said  Mendelssohn,  Avith  the  unfeigned  modesty 
of  the  man  who,  his  every  public  utterance  having  been 
dragged  out  of  him  by  external  compulsion,  retains  his 
native  shyness  and  is  alone  in  ignorance  of  his  own  influ- 
ence. *'No,  no,  it  is  Montesquieu,  it  is  Dolim,  it  is  my 
dear  Lessing.  Poor  fellow,  the  Christian  bigots  are  at  him 
now  like  a  plague  of  stinging  insects.  I  almost  Avish  he 
hadn't  Avritten  Nathan  der  Weise.  I  am  glad  to  reflect  I 
didn't  instigate  him,  nay,  that  he  had  written  a  play  in 
favor  of  the  Jews  ere  we  met." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  know  him  ?" 

"I  hardly  remember.  He  was  always  fond  of  outcasts 
— a  true  artistic  temperament,  that  preferred  to  consort 
with  actors  and  soldiers  rather  than  with  the  beer-swilling 
middle  -  class  of  Berlin.  Oh  yes,  I  think  we  met  over  a 
game  of  chess.  Then  we  wrote  an  essay  on  Pope  together. 
Dear  Gotthold  !  What  do  I  not  owe  him  ?  My  position 
in  Berlin,  my  feeling  for  literature — for  we  Jews  have  all 
stifled  our  love  for  the  beautiful  and  grown  dead  to 
poetry." 

"  Well,  but  Avhat  is  a  poet  but  a  liar  ?" 

"Ah,  my  dear  Herr  Maimon,  you  will  grow  out  of  that. 
I  must  lend  you  Homer.  Intellectual  speculation  is  not 
everything.  For  my  part,  I  have  never  regretted  with- 
drawing a  portion  of  my  love  from  the  worthy  matron, 
philosophy,  in  order  to  bestow  it  on  her  handmaid,  lelles- 
lettres.  I  am  sorry  to  use  a  French  word,  but  for  once 
there's  no  better.  You  smile  to  see  a  Jew  more  German 
than  the  Germans." 

''  No,  1  smile  to  hear  what  sounds  like  French  all  round  ! 
I  remember  reading  in  your  Philosophical  Conversations 
your  appeal  to  tlie  Germans  not  to  exchange  their  own 
gold  for  the  tinsel  of  their  neighbors." 

"Yes,  but  what  can  one  do  ?    It  is  a  Berlin  mania;  and, 

319 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

you  know,  the  King  himself.  .  .  .  Our  Jewish  girls  first 
caught  it  to  converse  with  the  young  gallants  who  came  a- 
borrowing  of  their  fathers,  but  the  influence  of  my  dear 
daughters — there,  the  beautiful  one  is  Dorothea,  the  eldest, 
and  that  other,  who  takes  more  after  me,  is  Henrietta — 
their  influence  is  doing  much  to  counteract  the  wave  of 
flippancy  and  materialism.  But  fancy  any  one  still  reading 
my  Philosophical  Conversalions — my  "prentice  work.  I  had 
no  idea  of  printing  it.  1  lent  the  manuscript  to  Lessing, 
observing  jestingly  that  I,  too,  could  write  like  Shaftes- 
bury, the  Englishman.  And  lo  I  the  next  time  I  met  him 
he  handed  me  the  proofs.     Dear  Gotthold." 

"Is  it  true  that  the  King—?"' 

"  Sent  for  me  to  Potsdam  to  scold  me  ?  You  are  think- 
ing of  another  matter.  That  was  in  my  young  days."'  He 
smiled  and  lowered  his  voice.  *•  I  ventured  to  hint  in  a 
review  that  His  Majesty's  French  verses — I  am  glad  by  the 
way  he  has  lived  to  write  some  against  Voltaire — were  not 
perfection.  I  thought  1  had  wrapped  up  my  meaning  be- 
yond royal  comprehension.  But  a  malicious  courtier,  the 
preacher  Justi,  denounced  me  as  a  Jew  who  had  thrown 
aside  all  reverence  for  the  most  sacred  person  of  His  Maj- 
esty. I  was  summoned  to  Sans-Souci  and — with  a  touch 
of  Rishus  (malice) — on  a  Saturday.  I  managed  to  be  there 
without  breaking  my  Shahbos  (Sabbath)." 

''Then  he  does  keep  Sabbath  I"  thought  Maimon,  in 
amaze. 

"  But,  as  you  may  imagine,  I  was  not  as  happy  as  a  bear 
with  honey.  However,  I  j^leaded  that  he  Avho  makes  verses 
plays  at  nine-pins,  and  he  who  plays  at  nine-pins,  be  he 
monarch  or  peasant,  must  be  satisfied  with  the  judgment 
of  the  boy  who  has  charge  of  the  bowls." 

"  And  you  are  still  alive  !" 

"  To  the  annoyance  of  many  people.     I  fancy  His  Maj- 

320 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

esty  was  ashamed  to  punish  me  before  the  French  cynics 
of  his  court,  and  I  know  on  good  authority  that  it  was 
because  the  Marquis  D'Argens  was  astonished  to  learn  tliat 
I  coukl  be  driven  out  of  Berlin  at  any  moment  by  the 
police  that  the  King  made  me  a  Schutz-Jude  (protected 
Jew).  So  I  owe  something  to  the  French  after  all.  My 
friends  had  long  been  urging  me  to  sue  for  protection,  but 
I  thought,  as  I  still  think,  that  one  ought  not  to  ask  for 
any  rights  which  the  humblest  Jew  could  not  enjoy.  How- 
ever, a  king's  gift  horse  one  cannot  look  in  the  mouth. 
And  now  you  are  to  become  my  Schutz-Jude" — Maimon's 
heart  beat  gratefully — "  and  the  question  is,  what  do  you 
propose  to  do  in  Berlin  ?  What  is  the  career  that  is  to 
bring  you  a  castle  and  a  princess  ?" 

"  I  wish  to  study  medicine." 

"  Good.  It  is  the  one  profession  a  Jew  may  enter  here ; 
though,  you  must  know,  however  great  a  practice  you  may 
attain — even  among  the  Christians — they  will  never  pub- 
lish your  name  in  the  medical  list.  Still,  we  must  be  thank- 
ful for  small  mercies.  In  Frankfort  the  Jewish  doctors 
are  limited  to  four,  in  other  towns  to  none.  We  must 
hand  you  over  to  Dr.  Herz — there,  that  man  Avho  is  laugh- 
ing so,  over  one  of  his  own  good  things,  no  doubt — that 
is  Dr.  Herz,  and  the  beautiful  creature  is  his  wife,  Henri- 
etta, who  is  founding  a  Goethe  salon.  She  and  my  daugh- 
ters are  inseparable  —  a  Jewish  trinity.  And  so,  Herr 
Physician,  I  extend  to  you  the  envious  congratulations  of 
a  book-keeper." 

"But  you  are  not  a  book-keeper  !" 

"Not  now,  but  that  was  what  I  began  as  —  or  rather, 
what  I  drifted  into,  for  I  was  Talmudical  tutor  in  his  fam- 
ily, when  my  dear  Herr  Bernhardt  proposed  it  to  me.  And 
I  am  not  sorry.  For  it  left  me  plenty  of  time  to  learn 
Latin  and  Greek  and  mathematics,  and  finally  lauded  me 
X  321 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

in  a  partnership.  Still  I  have  always  been  a  raee-horse  bur- 
dened with  a  pack,  alas  !  I  don't  mean  my  hump,  but  the 
factory  still  steals  a  good  deal  of  my  time  and  brains,  and 
if  I  didn't  rise  at  five —  But  you  have  made  me  quite 
egoistic — it  is  the  resemblance  of  our  young  days  that  has 
touched  the  spring  of  memories.  But  come  !  let  me  intro- 
duce you  to  my  wife  and  my  son  Abraham.  Ah,  see,  poor 
Fromet  is  signalling  to  me.  She  is  tired  of  being  left  to 
battle  single-handed.  Would  you  not  like  to  know  M.  de 
Mirabeau  ?  Or  let  me  introduce  you  to  Wessely — he  will 
talk  to  you  in  Hebrew.  It  is  Wessely  who  does  all  the 
work  for  which  I  am  praised — it  is  he  who  is  elevating  our 
Jewish  brethren,  with  whom  I  have  not  the  heart  nor  the 
courage  to  strive.  Or  there  is  Nicolai,  the  founder  of  '  The 
Library  of  the  Fine  Arts,'  to  which,"  he  added  with  a  sly 
smile,  "  I  hope  yet  to  see  you  contributing.  Perhaps 
Fraulein  Reiraarus  will  convert  you — that  charming  young 
lady  there  talking  with  her  brother-in-law,  Avho  is  a  Danish 
state-councillor.  She  is  the  great  friend  of  Lessing — as  1 
live,  there  comes  Lessing  himself.  I  am  sure  he  would 
like  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaintance." 

"'  Because  he  likes  outcasts  ?  No,  no,  not  yet,"  and 
Maimon,  whose  mood  had  been  growing  dark  again,  shrank 
back,  appalled  by  these  great  names.  Yes,  he  was  a  dream- 
er and  a  fool,  and  Mendelssohn  was  a  sage,  indeed.  In  his 
bitterness  he  distrusted  even  his  own  Dissertation,  his  un- 
compromising logic,  destructive  of  all  theology.  Perhaps 
Mendelssohn  was  right :  perhaps  he  had  really  solved  the 
Jewish  problem.  To  be  a  Jew  among  Germans,  and  a 
German  among  Jews  :  to  reconcile  the  old  creed  with  Cult- 
ure :  to  hold  up  one's  head,  and  assert  oneself  as  an  hon- 
orable element  in  the  nation — was  not  this  catholic  gather- 
ing a  proof  of  the  feasibility  of  such  an  ideal  ?  Good  sense  ! 
What  true  self-estimate  as  well  as  wit  in  the  sage's  famous 

322 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

retort  to  the  swaggering  German  officer  who  asked  him  what 
commodity  he  dealt  in.  "  In  that  which  you  appear  to 
need  —  good  sense."  Maimon  roused  himself  to  listen  to 
the  conversation.  It  changed  to  German  under  the  im- 
pulse of  the  host,  who  from  his  umpire's  chair  controlled 
it  with  play  of  eye,  head,  or  hand  ;  and  when  appealed  to, 
would  usually  show  that  both  parties  were  fighting  about 
words,  not  things.  Maimon  noted  from  his  semi-obscure 
retreat  that  the  talk:  grew  more  serious  and  connected, 
touched  problems.  He  saw  that  for  Mendelssohn  as  for 
himself  nothing  really  existed  but  the  great  questions. 
Flippant  interruptions  the  sage  seemed  to  disregard,  and 
if  the  topic  dribbled  out  into  irrelevancies  he  fell  silent. 
Maimon  studied  the  noble  curve  of  his  forehead,  the  de- 
cided nose,  the  prominent  lips,  in  the  light  of  Ilerr  La- 
vater's  theories.  Lessing  said  little  :  he  had  the  air  of  a 
broken  man.  The  brilliant  life  of  the  culture-warrior  was 
closing  in  gloom — wife,  child,  health,  money,  almost  repu- 
tation, gone  :  the  nemesis  of  genius. 

At  one  point  a  lady  strove  to  concentrate  attention  upon 
herself  by  accusing  herself  of  faults  of  character.  Even 
Maimon  understood  she  was  angling  for  compliments.  But 
Mendelssohn  gravely  bade  her  mend  her  faults,  and  Mai- 
mon saAv  Lessing's  harassed  eyes  light  up  for  the  first  time 
with  a  gleam  of  humor.  Then  the  poet,  as  if  roused  to 
recollection,  pulled  out  a  paper,  "I  almost  forgot  to  give 
you  back  Kant's  letter,"  he  said.  "You  are  indeed  to  be 
congratulated." 

Mendelssohn  blushed  like  a  boy,  and  made  a  snatch  at 
the  letter,  but  Lessing  jestingly  insisted  on  reading  it  to 
the  company. 

*'I  consider  that  in  your  Jerusalem  you  have  succeeded 
in  combining  our  religion  with  such  a  degree  of  freedom 
of  conscience,  as  was  never  imagined  possible,  and  of  which 

323 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

no  other  faith  can  boast.  Yon  have  at  the  same  time  so 
thoroughly  and  so  clearly  demonstrated  the  necessity  of  un- 
limited liberty  of  conscience,  that  ultimately  our  Church 
will  also  be  led  to  reflect  how  it  should  remove  from  its 
midst  everything  that  disturbs  and  oppresses  conscience, 
which  will  finally  unite  all  men  in  their  view  of  the  essential 
points  of  religion." 

There  was  an  approving  murmur  throughout  the  com- 
pany. "Such  a  letter  would  compensate  me  for  many 
more  annoyances  than  my  works  have  brought  me,"'  said 
Mendelssohn.  "And  to  think,"  he  added  laughingly, 
"  that  I  once  beat  Kant  in  a  prize  competition.  A  proof  of 
the  power  of  lucid  expression  over  profound  thought.  And 
that  I  owe  to  your  stimulus,  Lessing." 

The  poet  made  a  grimace.  "You  accuse  me  of  stimu- 
lating superficiality  !" 

There  was  a  laugh. 

"Nay,  I  meant  you  have  torn  away  the  thorns  from  the 
roses  of  philosophy  !     If  Kant  would  only  Avrite  like  you — " 

"He  might  understand  himself,"  flashed  the  beautiful 
Henrietta  Herz. 

"  And  lose  his  disciples,"  added  her  husband.  "  That  is 
really,  Herr  Mendelssohn,  why  we  pious  Jews  are  so  angry 
with  your  German  translation  of  the  Bible — you  make  the 
Bible  intelligible." 

"Yes,  they  have  done  their  best  to  distort  it,"  sighed 
Mendelssohn.  "  But  the  fury  my  translation  arouses 
among  the  so-called  wise  men  of  the  day,  is  the  best  proof 
of  its  necessity.  AVhen  I  first  meditated  producing  a  plain 
liiblo  in  good  German,  I  had  only  the  needs  of  my  own  chil- 
dren at  heart,  then  I  allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded  it 
might  serve  the  multitude,  now  I  see  it  is  tlio  Kabbis  who 
need  it  most.  But  centuries  of  crooked  thinking  have 
deadened  them  to  the  beauties  of  the  Bible  :  they  have  left 

324 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

it  behind  them  as  elementary,  when  they  have  not  them- 
selves coated  it  with  complexity.  Subtle  misinterpretation 
is  everything,  a  beautiful  text,  nothing.  And  then  this  cor- 
rupt idiom  of  theirs — than  which  nothing  more  corrupts  a 
nation  —  they  have  actually  invested  this  German  jargon 
with  sanctity,  and  I  am  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing  for  put- 
ting good  German  in  Hebrew  letters.  Even  the  French 
Jews,  Cerf  Berr  tells  me,  think  bad  German  holy.  To  say 
nothing  of  Austria." 

"  Wait,  wait  !"  said  an  eager-eyed  man  ;  "  the  laws  of  the 
Emperor  Joseph  will  change  all  that  —  once  the  Jews  of 
Vienna  are  forced  to  go  to  school  with  the  sciences,  they 
will  become  an  honored  element  of  the  nation." 

Mendelssohn  shook  a  worldly-wise  head.  "Not  so  fast, 
my  dear  Wessely,  not  so  fast.  Your  Hebrew  Ode  to  the 
Austrian  Emperor  was  unimpeachable  as  poetry,  but,  I 
fear,  visionary  as  history.  Who  knows  that  this  is  more 
than  a  temporary  political  move  ?" 

"And  we  jjious  Jews,"  put  in  Dr.  Herz,  smiling,  "you 
forget,  Herr  Wessely,  we  are  not  so  easily  schooled.  We 
have  never  forgiven  our  Mendelssohn  for  saying  our  glori- 
ous religion  had  accumulated  cobwebs.  It  is  the  cobwebs 
we  love,  not  the  port." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  broke  in  Maimou,  so  interested  that  he 
forgot  his  own  jargon,  to  say  nothing  of  his  attire.  "  When 
I  was  in  Poland,  I  crawled  nicely  into  mud,  through  point- 
ing out  that  they  ought  not  to  turn  to  the  east  in  praying, 
because  Jerusalem,  which,  in  accordance  with  Talmudic 
law,  they  turned  to,  couldn't  lie  due  east  of  everywhere. 
In  point  of  fact  we  were  north-west,  so  that  they  should 
have  turned" — his  thumbs  began  to  turn  and  his  voice  to 
take  on  the  Talmudic  sing-song — "south-east.  I  told 
them  it  was  easy  in  each  city  to  compute  the  exact  turning, 
by  corners  and  circles — " 

335 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''By  spherical  trigonometry,  certainly,"  said  Mendelssohn 
pleasantly.  Maimon,  conscious  of  a  correction,  blushed  and 
awoke  to  find  himself  the  centre  of  observation.  His  host 
made  haste  to  add,  "You  remind  me  of  the  odium  I  in- 
curred by  agreeing  with  the  Duke  of  Mecklenburg-Schwe- 
rin's  edict,  that  we  should  not  bury  our  dead  before  the 
third  day.  And  this  in  spite  of  my  proofs  from  the  Tal- 
mud !  Dear,  clear,  if  the  Rabbis  were  only  as  anxious  to 
bury  dead  ideas  as  dead  bodies  !"  There  was  a  general 
smile,  but  Maimon  said  boklly — 

"I  think  you  treat  them  far  too  tolerantly." 
"Wliat,  Herr  Maimon,"  and  Mendelssohn  smiled  the 
half-sad  smile  of  the  sage,  Avho  has  seen  the  humors  of  the 
human  sjoectacle  and  himself  as  part  of  it — "would  you 
have  me  rebuke  intolerance  by  intolerance  ?  I  will  admit 
that  when  I  was  your  age — and  of  an  even  hotter  temper — 
I  could  have  made  a  pretty  persecutor.  In  tliose  days  I 
contributed  to  the  mildest  of  sheets,  'The  Moral  Preacli- 
er,'  we  young  blades  called  it.  But  because  it  didn't  reek 
of  religion,  on  every  page  the  pious  scented  atheism.  I 
coukl  have  whipped  the  dulkirds  or  cried  with  vexation. 
Now  I  see  intolerance  is  a  jiroof  of  earnestness  as  well  as  of 
stupidity.  It  is  well  that  men  should  be  alert  against  the 
least  rough  breath  on  the  blossoms  of  faith  they  cherish. 
The  only  criticism  that  still  has  power  to  annoy  me  is  that 
of  the  timid,  who  fear  it  is  provoking  persecution  for  a 
Jew  to  speak  out.  But  for  the  rest,  opposition  is  the  test- 
furnace  of  new  ideas.  I  do  my  part  in  the  world,  it  is  for 
others  to  do  theirs.  As  soon  as  I  had  yielded  my  transla- 
tion to  friend  Dubno,  to  be  printed,  I  took  my  soul  in  my 
hands,  raised  my  eyes  to  the  mountains,  and  gave  my  back 
to  the  smitcrs.  All  the  same  I  am  sorry  it  is  the  Rabbi 
of  Posen  who  is  launching  these  old  -  fashioned  thunders 
against  the  German  Pentateuch  of  "  Moses  of  Dessau,"  for 

826 


MAIM  ON    AND    NATHAN 

both  as  a  Talmiulist  and  mathematician  Hirsch  Janow  has 
my  sincere  respect.  Not  in  vain  is  he  styled  'the  keen 
schohir,'  and  from  all  I  hear  he  is  a  truly  good  man." 

"A  saint  I"  cried  Maimon  enthusiastically,  again  forget- 
ting his  shyness.  His  voice  faltered  as  he  drew  a  glowing 
l^anegyric  of  his  whilom  benefactor,  and  pictured  him  as 
about  to  die  in  the  prime  of  life,  worn  out  by  vigils  and 
penances.  In  a  revulsion  of  feeling,  fresh  stirrings  of 
doubt  of  the  Mendelssohnian  solution  agitated  his  soul. 
Though  he  had  but  just  now  denounced  the  fanatics,  he 
was  conscious  of  a  strange  sympathy  with  this  lovable 
ascetic  who  fasted  every  day,  torturing  equally  his  texts 
and  himself,  this  hopeless  mystic  for  whom  there  could  be 
no  bridge  to  modern  thought ;  all  the  Polish  Jew  in  him 
revolted  irrationally  against  the  new  German  rationalism. 
No,  no  ;  it  must  be  all  or  nothing.  Jewish  Catholicism 
was  not  to  be  replaced  by  Jewish  Protestantism.  These 
pathetic  zealots,  clinging  desperately  to  the  past,  had  a 
deeper  instinct,  a  truer  j^revision  of  the  future,  than  this 
cultured  philosopher. 

"  Yes,  what  you  tell  me  of  Hirsch  Janow  goes  with  all 
I  have  heard,"  said  Mendelssohn  calmly.  "  But  I  put  my 
trust  in  time  and  the  new  generation.  I  will  wager  that 
the  translation  I  drew  up  for  my  children  will  be  read  by 
his." 

Maimon  happened  to  be  looking  over  Mendelssohn's 
shoulder  at  his  charming  daughters  in  their  Parisian  toi- 
lettes. He  saw  them  exchange  a  curious  glance  that  raised 
their  eyebrows  sceptically.  With  a  flash  of  insight  he 
caught  their  meaning.  Mendelssohn  seeking  an  epigram 
had  stumbled  into  a  dul)ious  oracle. 

"  The  translation  I  drew  up  for  my  children  will  be  read 
by  his." 

By  his,  perhaps. 

327 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

But  by  ray  own  ? 

Mainion  shivered  with  an  apprehension  of  tragedy.  Per- 
haps it  was  his  Dissertation  that  Mendelssohn's  children 
would  read.  He  remembered  suddenly  that  Mendelssohn 
had  said  no  word  to  its  crushing  logic. 

As  he  was  taking  his  leave,  he  put  the  question  point- 
blank.     "  AVhat  have  you  to  say  to  my  arguments  ?" 

"  You  are  not  in  the  right  road  at  present,"  said  Men- 
delssohn, holding  his  hand  amicably,  ''but  the  course  of 
your  inquiries  must  not  be  checked.  Doubt,  as  Descartes 
rightly  says,  is  the  beginning  of  philosophical  speculation." 

He  left  the  Polish  philosopher  on  the  threshold,  agitated 
by  a  medley  of  feelings. 

IV 

This  mingled  attitude  of  Mainion  the  Fool  towards 
Nathan  the  Wise  continued  till  the  death  of  the  Sage 
plunged  Berlin  into  mourning,  and  the  Fool  into  vain  re- 
grets for  his  fits  of  disrespect  towards  one,  the  great  out- 
lines of  whose  character  stood  for  ever  fixed  by  the  chisel 
of  death.  "  Quis  deslderio  sit  puclor  aut  modus  tarn  cari 
capitis  ?"  he  wrote  in  his  autobiography. 

Too  often  had  he  lost  his  temper  —  particularly  when 
Spinoza  Avas  the  theme  —  and  had  all  but  accused  Men- 
delssohn of  dishonesty.  Was  not  Truth  the  highest  ideal  ? 
And  Avas  not  Spinoza  as  irrefutable  as  Euclid.  What ! 
Could  the  emancipated  intellect  really  deny  that  mar- 
vellous thinker,  who,  after  a  century  of  unexampled  oblo- 
quy, was  the  acknowledged  prophet  of  the  God  of  the  fut- 
ure, the  inspirer  of  Goethe,  and  all  that  was  best  in  modern 
thought  I  But  no,  Mendelssohn  held  stubbornly  to  his  OAvn 
life-system,  never  would  admit  that  his  long  spiritual  liappi- 
ness  had  been  based  on  a  lie.     It  was  highly  unreasonable 

328 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

and  annoying  of  him,  and  his  formula  for  closing  discus- 
sions, "  We  must  hold  fast  not  to  words  but  to  the  things 
they  signify,"  was  exasperatingly  answerable.  How  strange 
that  after  the  restless  Maimon  had  of  himself  given  up  Spi- 
noza, the  Sage's  last  years  should  have  been  clouded  by  the 
alleged  Spinozism  of  his  dear  dead  Lessing. 

But  now  that  the  Sage  himself  was  dead,  the  Fool  re- 
membered his  infinite  patience — the  patience  not  of  blood- 
lessness,  but  of  a  passionate  soul  that  has  conquered  itself 
— not  to  be  soured  by  a  fool's  disappointing  career,  nor  even 
by  his  bursts  of  profligacy. 

For  Maimon's  life  held  many  more  vicissitudes,  but  the 
profession  of  medicine  was  never  of  them.  "I  require  of 
every  man  of  sound  mind  that  he  should  lay  out  for  him- 
self a  plan  of  action,"  said  the  philosopher  ;  and  wandered 
to  Breslau,  to  Amsterdam,  to  Potsdam,  the  parasite  of  pro- 
tectors, the  impecunious  hack  of  publishers,  the  rebel  of 
manners,  the  ingenious  and  honored  metaphysician.  When 
Kant  declared  he  was  the  only  one  of  his  critics  that  un- 
derstood The  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Maimon  returned  to 
Berlin  to  devote  himself  to  the  philosophical  work  that  was 
to  give  him  a  pinnacle  apart  among  the  Kantians.  Goethe 
and  Schiller  made  flattering  advances  to  him.  Berlin  so- 
ciety was  at  his  feet.  But  he  remained  to  the  end,  shift- 
less and  feckless,  uncouth  and  unmanageable,  and  not  sel- 
dom when  the  taverns  he  frequented  were  closed,  he  would 
svander  tipsily  through  the  sleeping  streets  meditating  sui- 
3ide,  or  arguing  metaphysics  with  expostulant  watchmen. 

*'For  all  his  mathematics,"  a  friend  said  of  him,  "he 
never  seems  to  think  of  the  difference  between  j^lus  and 
minus  in  money  matters."  ''People  like  you,  there's  no 
ttse  trying  to  help,"  said  another,  worn-out,  wlien  Maimon 
pleaded  for  only  a  few  cojipers.  Yet  he  never  acquired  the 
beggar's  servility,  nay,  was  often  himself  the  patron  of  some 

339 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

poorer  hanger-on,  for  whom  he  would  sacrifice  his  last  glass 
of  beer.  Curt  in  his  manners,  he  refused  to  lift  his  hat  or 
embrace  his  acquaintances  in  cold  blood.  Nor  would  he 
wear  a  Avig.     Pure  Reason  alone  must  rule. 

So,  clad  in  an  all-concealing  overcoat,  the  unshaven  phi- 
losopher might  be  seen  in  a  coffee-house  or  on  an  ale-house 
bench,  scribbling  at  odd  moments  his  profound  essays  on 
Transcendental  Philosophy,  the  leaves  flying  about  and  los- 
ing themselves,  and  the  thoughts  as  ill-arranged,  for  the 
Hebrew  Talmudical  manner  still  clung  to  his  German  writ- 
ing as  to  his  talking,  so  that  the  body  swayed  rhytlimically, 
his  tliumb  worked  and  his  voice  chanted  the  sing-song  of 
piety  to  ideas  that  would  have  paralyzed  the  Talmud  school. 
It  was  in  like  manner  tbat  when  he  lost  a  game  of  chess  or 
waxed  hot  in  argument,  his  old  Judean-Polish  mother  jar- 
gon came  back  to  him.  His  old  religion  he  had  shed  com- 
pletely, yet  a  synagogue -tune  could  always  move  him  to 
tears.  Sometimes  he  might  be  seen  at  the  theatre,  sobbing 
hysterically  at  tragedies  or  laughing  boisterously  over  com- 
edies, for  he  had  long  since  learned  to  love  Homer  and  the 
humane  arts,  though  at  first  he  was  wont  to  contend  tluit 
no  vigor  of  literary  expression  could  possibly  excel  his 
mother-in-law's  curses.  Not  that  he  ever  saw  her  again  : 
his  wife  and  eldest  son  tracked  him  to  Breslau,  but  only  in 
quest  of  ducats  and  divorce  :  the  latter  of  which  Maimon 
conceded  after  a  legal  rigmarole.  But  he  took  no  advan- 
tage of  his  freedom.  A  home  of  his  own  he  never  pos- 
sessed, save  an  occasional  garret  where  he  worked  at  an 
unsteady  table — one  leg  usually  supported  by  a  folio  vol- 
ume— surrounded  by  the  cats  and  dogs  whom  he  had  taken 
to  solacing  himself  with.  And  even  if  lodged  in  a  noble- 
man's palace,  his  surroundings  Avere  no  cleaner.  In  Am- 
sterdam he  drove  the  Dutch  to  despair :  even  German  house- 
keepers were  stung  to  remonstrance.    Yet  the  charm  of  his 

330 


MAIM  ON    AND    NATHAN 

conversation,  the  brilliancy  of  his  intellect  kept  him  always 
well-friended.  And  the  fortune  which  favors  fools  watched 
over  his  closing  years,  and  sent  the  admiring  Graf  Kal- 
kreuth,  an  intellectual  Silesian  nobleman,  to  dig  him  out  of 
miserable  lodgings,  and  instal  him  in  his  own  castle  near 
Freistadt. 

As  he  lay  upon  his  luxurious  death -bed  in  the  dreary 
November  dusk,  dying  at  forty -six  of  a  neglected  lung- 
trouble,  a  worthy  Catholic  pastor  strove  to  bring  him  to  a 
more  Christian  frame  of  mind. 

"  What  matters  it  ?"  protested  the  sufferer  ;  "  when  I 
am  dead,  I  am  gone." 

"Can  you  say  that,  dear  friend,"  rejoined  the  Pastor, 
with  deep  emotion.  ''How?  Your  mind,  which  amid 
the  most  iinfavorable  circumstances  ever  soared  to  higher 
attainments,  which  bore  such  fair  flowers  and  fruits — shall 
it  be  trodden  in  the  dust  along  with  the  poor  covering  in 
which  it  has  been  clothed  ?  Do  you  not  feel  at  this  mo- 
ment that  there  is  something  in  you  which  is  not  body,  not 
matter,  not  subject  to  the  conditions  of  space  and  time  ?" 

"Ah!"  replied  Maimon,  "there  are  beautiful  dreams 
and  hopes — " 

"Which  will  surely  be  fulfilled.  Should  you  not  wish 
to  come  again  into  the  society  of  Mendelssohn  ?" 

Maimon  Avas  silent. 

Suddenly  the  dying  man  cried  out  •  "  Ay  mo  !  I  have 
been  a  fool,  the  most  foolish  among  the  most  foolish." 
The  thought  of  Nathan  the  Wise  was  indeed  as  a  fiery 
scourge.  Too  late  he  realized  that  the  passion  for  Truth 
had  destroyed  him.  Knowledge  alone  was  not  sufficient 
for  life.  The  will  and  the  emotions  demanded  their  nutri- 
ment and  exercise  as  well  as  the  intellect.  Man  was  not 
made  merely  to  hunt  an  abstract  formula,  pale  ghost  of 
living  realities. 

331 


DEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'  To  seek  for  Truth  " — yes,  it  was  one  ideal.  But  there 
remained  also — as  the  quotation  went  on  which  Mendels- 
sohn's disciples  had  chosen  as  their  motto — "  To  love  the 
beautiful,  to  desire  the  good,  to  do  the  best."  Mendelssohn 
with  his  ordered  scheme  of  harmonious  living,  with  his 
equal  grasp  of  thought  and  life,  sanely  balanced  betwixt 
philosophy  and  letters,  learning  and  business,  according  so 
much  to  Hellenism,  yet  not  losing  hold  of  Hebraism,  and 
adjusting  with  equal  mind  the  claims  of  the  Ghetto  and 
the  claims  of  Culture,  Mendelssohn  shone  before  Maimon's 
dying  eyes,  as  indeed  the  Wise. 

The  thinker  had  a  last  gleam  of  satisfaction  in  seeing  so 
lucidly  the  springs  of  his  failure  as  a  human  being.  Hap- 
piness was  the  child  of  fixedness — in  opinions,  in  space. 
Soul  and  body  had  need  of  a  centre,  a  pivot,  a  home. 

He  had  followed  the  hem  of  Truth  to  the  mocking 
horizon  :  he  had  in  turn  fanatically  adopted  every  philo- 
sophical system  Peripatetic,  Spinozist,  Leibnozist,  Leib- 
nitzian,  Kantian — and  what  did  he  know  now  he  was  going 
beyond  the  horizon  ?  Nothing.  He  had  Avon  a  place 
among  the  thinkers  of  Germany.  But  if  he  could  only 
have  had  his  cast-off  son  to  close  his  dying  eyes,  and  could 
only  have  believed  in  the  prayers  his  David  Avould  have 
sobbed  out,  how  willingly  would  ho  have  consented  to  be 
blotted  out  from  the  book  of  fame.  A  Passover  tune 
hummed  in  his  brain,  sad,  sweet  tears  sprang  to  his  eyes 
— yea,  his  soul  found  more  satisfaction  in  a  meaningless 
melody  charged  with  tremulous  memories  of  childhood, 
than  in  all  the  philosophies. 

A  melancholy  synagogue  refrain  quavered  on  his  lips, 
his  soul  turned  yearningly  towards  these  ascetics  and  mys- 
tics, whose  life  was  a  voluntary  martyrdom  to  a  misunder- 
stood righteousness,  a  passionate  sacrifice  to  a  naive  con- 
ception of  the  cosmos.     The  infinite  pathos  of  their  lives 

333 


MAIMON    AND    NATHAN 

touched  him  to  forgetfuhiess  of  his  own  futility.  His  soul 
went  out  to  them,  but  his  brain  denied  him  the  comfort  of 
their  illusions. 

He  set  his  teeth  and  waited  for  death. 

The  Pastor  sjDoke  again  :  "Yes,  you  have  been  foolish. 
But  that  you  say  so  now  shows  your  soul  is  not  beyond  re- 
demption.    Christ  is  ever  on  the  threshold." 

Maimon  made  an  impatient  gesture.  ''You  asked  me 
if  I  should  not  like  to  see  Mendelssohn  again.  How  do 
you  suppose  I  could  face  him,  if  I  became  a  Christian  ?" 

"You  forget,  my  dear  Maimon,  he  knows  the  Truth 
now.  Must  he  not  rejoice  that  his  daughters  have  fallen 
upon  the  bosom  of  the  Church  ?" 

Maimon  sat  up  in  bed  with  a  sudden  shock  of  remem- 
brance that  set  him  coughing. 

"  Dorothea,  but  not  Henrietta  ?"  he  gasped  painfully. 

"  Henrietta  too.  Did  you  not  know  ?  And  Abraham 
Mendelssohn  also  has  just  had  his  boy  Felix  baptized — a 
wonder-child  in  music,  I  hear." 

Maimon  fell  back  on  his  pillow,  overcome  with  emotions 
and  thoughts.  The  tragedy  latent  in  that  smile  of  the 
sisters  had  developed  itself. 

He  had  long  since  lost  touch  with  Berlin,  ceased  to  in- 
terest himself  in  Judaism,  its  petty  politics,  but  now  his 
mind  pieced  together  vividly  all  that  had  reached  liim  of  the 
developments  of  the  Jewish  question  since  Mendelssohn's 
death  :  the  battle  of  old  and  new,  grown  so  fierce  that  the 
pietists  denied  the  reformers  Jewish  burial ;  young  men 
scorning  their  fathers  and  crying,  "Culture,  Culture; 
down  with  the  Ghetto";  many  in  the  reaction  from  the 
yoke  of  three  thousand  years  falling  into  braggart  profligacy, 
many  more  into  fashionable  Christianity.  And  the  woman 
of  the  new  generation  no  less  apostate,  Henrietta  Herz 
bringing  beautiful  Jewesses  under  the  fascination  of  brill- 

333 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

iant  Germans  and  the  romantic  movement,  so  that  Men- 
delssohn's own  daughter,  Dorothea,  had  left  her  husband 
and  children  to  live  with  Sclilegel,  and  the  immemorial 
chastity  of  the  Jewess  was  undermined.  And  instead  of 
the  honorable  estimation  of  his  people  Mendelssohn  had 
worked  for,  a  violent  reaction  against  the  Jews,  fomented 
spiritually  by  Schleiermacher  with  his  "  transcendental 
Christianity,''  and  politically  by  Gentz  with  his  cry  of 
"^Christian  Germany":  both  men  lions  of  the  Jewish- 
Christian  Salon  which  Mendelssohn  had  made  possible. 
And  the  only  Judaism  that  stood  stable  amid  this  flux,  the 
ancient  rock  of  Rabbinism  he  had  sought  to  dislodge,  the 
Amsterdam  Jewry  refusing  even  the  civil  rights  for  which 
he  had  fought. 

"Poor  Mendelssohn!"  thought  the  dying  Maimon. 
"  Which  was  the  Dreamer  after  all,  he  or  I  ?  Well  for 
him,  perhaps,  that  his  PhcBclon  is  wrong,  that  he  will  never 
know." 

The  gulf  between  them  vanished,  and  in  a  last  flash  of 
remorseless  insight  he  saw  himself  and  Mendelssohn  at  one 
in  the  common  irony  of  human  destiny. 

He  murmured:  "And  how  dieth  the  Avise  ?  As  the 
fool." 

"  What  do  you  say  ?"  said  the  Pastor. 

"It  is  a  verse  from  the  Bible." 

"  Then  are  you  at  peace  ?" 

"1  am  at  jjeace." 


FEOM  A  MATTRESS  GRAVE 


["I  am  a  Jew,  I  am  a  Christian.  I  am  tragedy,  I  am  comedy — 
Heraclitus  and  Democritus  in  one  :  a  Greek,  a  Hebrew  :  an  adorer  of 
despotism  as  incarnate  in  Napoleon,  an  admirer  of  communism  as 
embodied  in  Prondlion  ;  a  Latin,  a  Teuton  ;  a  beast,  a  devil,  a  god." 

"  God's  satire  weighs  heavily  upon  me.  The  Great  Author  of  the 
Universe,  the  Aristophanes  of  Heaven,  was  bent  on  demonsti'Jiting 
with  crushing  force  to  me,  the  little  earthly  so-called  German  Aristo- 
phanes, how  my  weightiest  sarcasms  are  only  pitiful  attempts  at  jest- 
ing in  comparison  with  His,  and  how  miserably  I  am  beneath  Him  in 
humor,  in  colossal  mockery."] 


The  carriage  stopped,  and  the  speckless  footman,  jump- 
ing down,  inqi;ired  :  "  Monsieur  Heine  ?" 

The  concierge,  knitting  beside  the  2^orte  cochere,  looked 
at  him,  looked  at  the  glittering  victoria  he  represented, 
and  at  the  grcmde  dame  who  sat  in  it,  shielding  herself 
with  a  parasol  from  the  glory  of  the  Parisian  sunlight. 
Then  she  shook  her  head. 

"But  this  is  number  three.  Avenue  Matignon  ?" 

"Yes,  but  Monsieur  receives  only  his  old  friends.  He 
is  dying." 

"Madame  knows.     Take  up  her  name." 

The  concierge  glanced  at  the  elegant  card.  She  saw 
"Lady" — which  she  imagined  meant  an  English  Duchesse 
— and  words  scribbled  on  it  in  pencil. 

335 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"It  is  au  cinquieme,"  she  said,  with  a  sigh. 

"I  will  take  it  up." 

Ere  he  returned,  Madame  descended  and  passed  from 
the  sparkling  sunshine  into  the  gloom  of  the  portico,  with 
a  melancholy  consciousness  of  the  symbolic.  For  her 
spirit,  too,  had  its  poetic  intuitions  and  insights,  and  had 
been  trained  by  friendship  Avith  one  of  the  wittiest  and 
tenderest  women  of  her  time  to  some  more  than  common 
apprehension  of  the  greater  spirit  at  whose  living  tomb 
she  was  come  to  worship.  Hers  was  a  fine  face,  Avearing 
the  triple  aristocracy  of  beauty,  birth,  and  letters.  The 
complexion  was  of  lustreless  ivory,  the  black  hair  wound 
round  and  round.  The  stateliness  of  her  figure  completed 
the  impression  of  a  Roman  matron. 

"  jVIonsieur  Heine  begs  that  your  ladyship  Avill  do  him 
the  honor  of  mounting,  and  Avill  forgive  him  the  five 
stories  for  the  sake  of  the  view." 

Her  ladyship's  sadness  Avas  tinctured  by  a  faint  smile  at 
the  message,  Avhich  the  footman  delivered  Avithout  any 
suspicion  that  the  view  in  question  meant  the  view  of 
Heine  himself.  But  then  that  admirable  menial  had  not 
the  advantage  of  her  comprehensive  familiarity  with  Heine's 
writings.  She  crossed  the  blank  stony  courtyard  and 
curled  up  the  curving  five  flights,  her  mind  astir  Avith  pict- 
ures and  emotions. 

She  had  scribbled  on  her  card  a  reminder  of  her  identity  ; 
but  could  he  remember,  after  all  those  years,  and  in  his 
grievous  sickness,  the  little  girl  of  eleven  Avho  had  sat  next 
to  him  at  the  Boulogne  table  cVhote  ?  And  she  herself 
could  now  scarcely  realize  at  times  that  the  stout,  good- 
natured,  short-sighted  little  man  with  the  big  Avhite  broAV, 
who  had  lounged  Avith  her  daily  at  the  end  of  the  pier, 
telling  her  stories,  Avas  the  most  mordant  Avit  in  Europe, 
"the  German  Aristophanes":  and  that  those  nursery  tales, 

336 


PKOM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

grotesquely  compact  of  mermaids,  water  -  sprites,  and  a 
funny  old  French  fiddler  with  a  poodle  that  diligently 
took  throe  batlis  a  day,  were  the  frolicsome  improvisations 
of  perhaps  the  greatest  lyric  poet  of  his  age.  She  recalled 
their  parting :  "  When  you  go  back  to  England,  you  can 
tell  your  friends  that  you  have  seen  Ileinrich  Heine  !" 

To  which  the  little  girl :  "  And  who  is  Heinrich  Heine?" 

A  query  which  had  set  the  blue-eyed  little  man  roaring 
with  laughter. 

These  things  might  be  vivid  still  to  her  vision  :  they 
colored  all  she  had  read  since  from  his  magic  pen — the 
wonderful  poems  interpreting  with  equal  magic  the  ro- 
mance of  strange  lands  and  times,  or  the  modern  soul,  naked 
and  unashamed,  as  if  clothed  in  its  own  complexity;  the 
humorous -tragic  questionings  of  the  universe  ;  the  deli- 
cious travel-pictures  and  fantasies  ;  the  lucid  criticisms  of 
art,  and  politics,  and  pliilosoj)hy,  Informed  with  malicious 
wisdom,  shimmering  Avith  poetry  and  wit.  But,  as  for 
him,  doubtless  she  and  her  ingenuous  interrogation  had 
long  since  faded  from  his  tumultuous  life. 

The  odors  of  the  sick-room  recalled  her  to  the  disagree- 
able present.  In  the  sombre  light  she  stumbled  against  a 
screen  covered  with  paper  painted  to  look  like  lacquer- 
work,  and,  as  the  slip-shod  old  nurse  in  her  serre-ttte  mo- 
tioned her  forward,  she  had  a  dismal  sense  of  a  lodging- 
house  interior,  a  bourgeois  barrenness  enhanced  by  two 
engravings  after  Leopold  Robert,  depressingly  alien  from 
that  dainty  boudoir  atmosphere  of  the  artist-life  she  knew. 

But  this  sordid  impression  was  swallowed  up  in  the  vast 
tragedy  behind  the  screen.  Upon  a  pile  of  mattresses 
heaped  on  the  floor  lay  the  poet.  He  luid  raised  himself  a 
little  on  his  pillows,  amid  which  showed  a  longish,  pointed, 
white  face  with  high  cheek-bones,  a  Grecian  nose,  and 
a  large  pale  mouth,  wasted  from  the  sensualism  she  rec- 
Y  337 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

ollected  in  it  to  a  strange  Christ  -  like  oeauty.  The  out- 
lines of  the  shrivelled  body  beneath  the  sheet  seemed  those 
of  a  child  of  ten,  and  the  legs  looked  curiously  twisted. 
One  thin  little  hand,  as  of  transparent  wax,  delicately  ar- 
tistic, upheld  a  paralyzed  eyelid,  through  which  he  peered 
at  her. 

"^  Lucy  Liehchen!"  he  piped  joyously.  ''So  you  have 
found  out  who  Heinrich  Heine  is  !" 

He  used  the  familiar  German  "du";  for  him  she  was 
still  his  little  friend.  But  to  her  the  moment  was  too 
poignant  for  speech.  The  terrible  passages  in  the  last 
writings  of  this  greatest  of  autobiographers,  which  she  had 
hoped  poetically  colored,  were  then  painfully,  jDrosaically 
true. 

"  Can  it  be  that  I  still  actually  exist  ?  My  body  is  so 
shrunk  that  there  is  hardly  anything  left  of  me  but  my 
voice,  and  my  bed  makes  me  think  of  the  melodious  grave 
of  the  enchanter  Merlin,  which  is  in  the  forest  of  Broce- 
liand  in  Brittany,  under  high  oaks  whose  tops  shine  like 
green  flames  to  heaven.  Oh,  I  envy  thee  those  trees, 
brother  Merlin,  and  their  fresh  waving.  For  over  my  mat- 
tress grave  here  in  Paris  no  green  leaves  rustle,  and  early 
and  late  I  hear  nothing  but  the  rattle  of  carriages,  ham- 
mering, scolding,  and  the  jingle  of  pianos.  A  grave  with- 
out rest,  death  without  the  privileges  of  the  departed,  who 
have  no  longer  any  need  to  spend  money,  or  to  write  let- 
ters, or  to  compose  books.  .  .  ." 

And  then  she  thought  of  that  ghastly  comparison  of  him- 
self to  the  ancient  German  singer — the  poor  clerk  of  the 
Chronicle  of  Limburg  —  whose  sweet  songs  were  sung  and 
whistled  from  morning  to  night  all  through  Germany ; 
while  the  MinnesUuje}'  himself,  smitten  with  leprosy,  hood- 
ed and  cloaked,  and  carrying  the  lazarus-clapper,  moved 
through  the  shuddering  city.     God's  satire  weighed  heavily 

338 


FROM   A   MATTRESS    GRAVE 

upon  him,  indeed.  Silently  slie  held  out  her  hand,  and 
he  gave  her  his  bloodless  fingers ;  she  touched,  the  strange- 
ly satin  skin,  and  felt  the  fever  beneath. 

"  It  cannot  be  my  little  Lucy,"  he  said  reproachfully. 
"She  used  to  kiss  me.  But  even  Lucy's  kiss  cannot  thrill 
my  paralyzed  lips.'' 

She  stooped  and  kissed  his  lips.  His  little  beard  felt 
soft  and  weak  as  the  hair  of  a  baby. 

"Ah,  I  have  made  my  peace  with  the  world  and  with 
God.     Now  He  sends  me  His  death-angel." 

She  struggled  with  the  lump  in  her  throat.  "  You  must 
be  indeed  a  prey  to  illusions,  if  you  mistake  an  English- 
woman for  Azrael." 

^'Ach,  why  was  I  so  bitter  against  England  ?  I  was  only 
once  in  England,  years  ago.  I  knew  nobody,  and  London 
seemed  so  full  of  fog  and  Englishmen.  Now  England  has 
avenged  herself  beautifully.  She  sends  me  you.  Others 
too  mount  the  hundred  and  five  steps.  I  am  an  annexe  to 
the  Paris  Exhibition.  Remains  of  Heinrich  Heine.  A 
very  pilgrimage  of  the  royal  demi-monde  !  A  Russian  prin- 
cess brings  the  hateful  odor  of  her  pipe,"  he  said  with 
scornful  satisfaction,  "an  Italian  princess  babbles  of  her 
aches  and  pains,  as  if  in  competition  with  mine.  But  the 
gold  medal  would  fall  to  my  nerves,  I  am  convinced,  if  they 
were  on  view  at  the  Exhibition.  No,  no,  don't  cry ;  I 
meant  you  to  laugh.  Don't  think  of  me  as  you  see  me 
now  ;  pretend  to  me  I  am  as  you  first  knew  me.  But  how 
fine  and  beautiful  you  have  grown  ;  even  to  my  fraction  of 
an  eye,  which  sees  the  sunlight  as  through  black  gauze. 
Fancy  little  Lucy  has  a  husband;  a  husband — and  the 
poodle  still  takes  three  baths  a  day.  Are  you  happy,  dar- 
ling ?  are  you  happy  ?" 

She  nodded.     It  seemed  a  sacrilege  to  claim  happiness. 

^' Das  ist  schon!    Yes,  you  were  always  so  merry.     God 

339 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

be  thanked!  IIow  refresliing  to  find  one  woman  witli  a 
heart,  and  that  her  husband's.  Here  the  women  have  a 
metronome  under  their  corsets,  which  beats  time,  but  not 
music.  Himmel!  What  a  whilf  of  my  youth  you  bring 
me  I  Does  the  sea  still  roll  green  at  the  end  of  Boulogne 
pier,  and  do  the  sea-gulls  fly  ?  while  I  lie  here,  a  Parisian 
Prometheus,  chained  to  my  bed-post.  Ah,  had  I  only  the 
bliss  of  a  rock  with  the  sky  above  me  !  But  I  must  not 
complain  ;  for  six  years  before  I  moved  here  I  had  nothing 
but  a  ceiling  to  defy.  Now  my  balcony  gives  sideways  on 
the  Champs-Elysees,  and  sometimes  I  dare  to  lie  outside  on 
a  sofa  and  peer  at  beautiful,  beautiful  Paris,  as  she  sends 
up  her  soul  in  sparkling  fountains,  and  incarnates  herself  in 
pretty  women,  who  trip  along  like  dance  music.     Look  \" 

To  please  him  she  went  to  a  window  and  saw,  upon  the 
narrow  iron-grilled  balcony,  a  tent  of  striped  chintz,  like 
the  awning  of  a  cafe,  supported  by  a  light  iron  framework. 
Her  eyes  were  blurred  by  unshed  tears,  and  she  tlivined 
rather  than  saw  the  far-stretching  Avenue,  palpitating  with 
the  fevered  life  of  the  Great  Exhibition  year ;  the  intoxi- 
cating sunlight,  the  horse-chestnut  trees  dappling  with 
shade  the  leafy  footways,  the  white  fountain-spray  and  flam- 
ing flower-beds  of  the  Rond  Point,  the  flashing  flickering 
stream  of  carriages  flowing  to  the  Bois  with  their  freight  of 
beauty  and  wealth  and  insolent  vice. 

''  The  first  time  I  looked  out  of  that  window/'  he  said, 
**  I  seemed  to  myself  like  Dante  at  the  end  of  the  Divine 
Comedy,  when  once  again  he  beheld  the  stars.  You  can- 
not know  what  I  felt  when  after  so  many  years  I  saw  the 
world  again  for  the  first  time,  with  half  an  eye,  for  ever  so 
little  a  space.  I  had  my  wife's  opera-glass  in  my  hand,  and 
I  saw  with  inexpressible  pleasure  a  young  vagrant  vendor 
of  pastry  olferiug  his  goods  to  two  ladies  in  crinolines,  with 
a  small  dog.     I  closed  the  glass  ;  I  could  see  no  more,  for 

340 


FROM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

I  envied  the  dog.  The  nurse  carried  me  bcack  to  bed  and 
gave  me  morphia.  That  day  I  looked  no  more.  For  me 
the  Divine  Comedy  was  far  from  ended.  The  divine  hu- 
morist has  even  descended  to  a  pun.  Talk  of  Mahomet's 
coffin.  I  lie  between  the  two  Champs-Elysees,  the  one  where 
warm  life  palpitates,  and  that  other,  where  the  pale  ghosts 
flit." 

Then  it  was  not  a  momentary  fantasy  of  the  pen,  but  an 
abiding  mood  that  had  paid  blasphemous  homage  to  the 
"Aristophanes  of  Heaven."  Indeed,  had  it  not  always 
run  through  his  work,  this  concej)tion  of  humor  in  the 
grotcsqueries  of  history,  "  the  dream  of  an  intoxicated  di- 
vinity"? But  his  amusement  thereat  had  been  genial. 
"  Like  a  mad  harlequin,"  he  had  written  of  Byron,  the 
man  to  whom  he  felt  himself  most  related,  "  he  strikes  a 
dagger  into  his  own  heart,  to  sprinkle  mockingly  with  the 
jetting  black  blood  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  around.  .  .  . 
My  blood  is  not  so  splenetically  black  ;  my  bitterness  comes 
only  from  the  gall  -  apples  of  my  ink."  But  now,  she 
thought,  that  bitter  draught  always  at  his  lips  had  worked 
into  his  blood  at  last. 

"Are  you  quite  incurable  ?"  she  said  gently,  as  she  re- 
turned from  the  window  to  seat  herself  at  his  mattress 
graveside. 

"  No,  I  shall  die  some  day.  Gruby  says  very  soon.  But 
doctors  are  so  inconsistent.  Last  week,  after  I  had  had  a 
frightful  attack  of  cramp  in  the  throat  and  chest,  'Pouvez- 
vous  siffler  ?'  he  said.  '  JVoii,  pas  meme  une  comklie  de  M. 
Scribe,'  I  replied.  So  you  may  see  how  bad  I  was.  Well, 
even  that,  he  said,  Avouldn't  hasten  the  end,  and  I  should 
go  on  living  indefinitely  !  I  had  to  caution  him  not  to  tell 
my  wife.  Poor  Mathilde  !  I  have  been  unconscionably 
long  a-dying.  And  now  he  turns  round  again  and  bids  mo 
order  my  coffin.     But  I  fear,  despite  his  latest  bulletin,  I 

341 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

shall  go  on  some  time  yet  increasing  my  knowledge  of 
spinal  disease.  I  read  all  the  books  about  it,  as  well  as  ex- 
periment practically.  AVhat  clinical  lectures  I  will  give  in 
heaven,  demonstrating  the  ignorance  of  doctors  I" 

She  was  glad  to  note  the  more  genial  nuance  of  mockery. 
Raillery  vibrated  almost  in  the  very  tones  of  his  voice, 
which  had  become  clear  and  penetrating  under  the  stimu- 
lus of  her  presence,  but  it  passed  away  in  tenderness,  and 
the  sarcastic  wrinkles  vanished  from  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  as  he  made  the  pathetic  jest  anent  his  wife. 

"  So  you  read  as  well  as  write,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  well,  De  Zichlinsky,  a  nice  young  refugee,  does 
both  for  me  most  times.  My  mother,  poor  old  soul,  wrote 
the  other  day  to  know  why  I  only  signed  my  letters,  so  I 
had  to  say  my  eyes  jDained  me,  which  Avas  not  so  untrue  as 
the  rest  of  the  letter." 

*'  Doesn't  she  know  ?" 

"  Know  ?  God  bless  her,  of  course  not.  Dear  old  lady, 
dreaming  so  happily  at  the  Dammthor,  too  old  and  wise 
to  read  newspapers.  No,  she  does  not  know  that  she  has 
a  dying  son,  only  that  she  has  an  undying !  JVicM 
WaJir?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  shade  of  anxiety  ;  that  tragic 
anxiety  of  the  veteran  artist  scenting  from  afar  the  sneers 
of  the  new  critics  at  his  life-work,  and  morbidly  conscious 
of  his  hosts  of  enemies. 

"As  long  as  the  German  tongue  lives." 

*'Deav  old  Germany,"  he  said,  pleased.  "Yes,  as  I 
wrote  to  you,  for  you  are  the  liebe  KIcine  of  the  poem, 

'Nennt  man  die  bt-sten  Namen, 
So  wird  audi  der  meine  genannt.'" 

She  was  flattered,  but  thought  sadly  of  the  sequel  •. 

843 


FEOM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

"  'Neunt  man  die  scblimmsten  Schmeizen, 
So  vvird  audi  der  mciue  genanat'" 

as  he  went  on  : — 

"  That  was  why,  though  the  German  censorship  forbade 
or  mutilated  my  every  book,  which  was  like  sticking  pins 
into  my  soul,  I  would  not  become  naturalized  here.  Paris 
has  been  my  new  Jerusalem,  and  I  crossed  my  Jordan  at 
the  Rhine  ;  but  as  a  French  subject  I  should  be  like  those 
two-headed  monstrosities  they  show  at  the  fairs.  Besides, 
I  hate  French  poetry.  What  measured  glitter  !  Not  that 
German  poetry  has  ever  been  to  me  more  than  a  divine 
plaything.  A  laurel-Avreath  on  my  grave,  place  or  with- 
hold, I  care  not;  but  lay  on  my  coffin  a  sword,  for  I  was 
as  brave  a  soldier  as  your  Canning  in  the  Liberation  War 
of  Humanity.  But  my  Thirty  Years'  War  is  over,  and  I 
die  'with  sword  unbroken,  and  a  broken  heart.'"  His 
head  fell  back  in  ineffable  hopelessness.  "Ah,"  he  mur- 
mured, ''it  was  ever  my  prayer,  'Lord,  let  me  grow  old 
in  body,  but  let  my  soul  stay  young  ;  let  my  voice  quaver 
and  falter,  but  never  my  hope.'     And  this  is  how  I  end." 

"But  your  work  does  not  end.  Your  fight  was  not 
vain.  You  are  the  inspirer  of  young  Germany.  And  you 
are  praised  and  worshipped  by  all  the  world.  Is  that  no 
I)leasure  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not  le  Ion  Dieu !"  He  chuckled,  his  spirits 
revived  by  the  blasphemous  mot.  "Ah,  what  a  fate  !  To 
have  the  homage  only  of  the  fools,  a  sort  of  celestial  Vic- 
tor Cousin.  One  compliment  from  Hegel  now  must  be 
sweeter  than  a  churchful  of  psalms."  A  fearful  fit  of 
coughing  interrupted  further  elaboration  of  the  blasphe- 
mous fantasia.  For  five  minutes  it  rent  and  shook  him, 
the  nurse  bending  fruitlessly  over  him  ;  but  at  its  wildest 
he  signed  to  his  visitor  not  to  go,  and  when  at  last  it  lulled 
he   went   on    calmly  :     "  Donizetti    ended    mad  in  a  gala 

343 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

dress,  but  I  end  at  least  sane  enough  to  appreciate  the 
joke — a  little  long-drawn  out,  and  not  entirely  original, 
yet  replete  with  ingenious  irony.  Little  Lucy  looks 
shocked,  but  I  sometimes  think,  little  Lucy,  the  disrespect 
is  with  the  goody-goody  folks,  who,  while  lauding  their 
Deity's  strength  and  hymning  His  goodness,  show  no  recog- 
nition at  all  of  His  humor.  Yet  I  am  praised  as  a  wit  as 
well  as  a  poet.  If  I  could  take  up  my  bed  and  walk,  I 
would  preach  a  new  worship — the  worship  of  the  Arch- 
Humorist.  I  should  draw  up  the  Ritual  of  the  Ridicu- 
lous. Three  times  a  day,  when  the  muezzin  called  from 
the  Bourse-top,  all  the  faithful  would  laugh  devoutly  at 
the  gigantic  Joke  of  the  cosmos.  How  sublime,  the  uni- 
versal laugh  !  at  sunrise,  noon,  and  sunset  ;  those  who  did 
not  laugh  would  be  persecuted  ;  they  would  laugh,  if  only 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  mouth.  Delightful !  As  most 
people  have  no  sense  of  humor,  they  will  swallow  the 
school  catechism  of  the  comic  as  stolidly  as  they  now 
swallow  the  spiritual.  Yes,  I  see  you  Avill  not  laugh. 
But  why  may  I  not  endow  my  Deity  —  as  everybody 
else  does — with  the  quality  which  I  possess  or  admire 
most  ?" 

She  felt  some  truth  in  his  apology.  He  was  mocking, 
not  God,  but  the  magnified  man  of  the  popular  creeds  ;  to 
him  it  was  a  mere  intellectual  counter  with  which  his  wit 
played,  oblivious  of  the  sacred  aura  that  clung  round  the 
concept  for  the  bulk  of  the  world.  Even  his  famous  pict- 
ure of  Jehovah  dying,  or  his  suggestion  that  perhaps  dicker 
Pdrvcnii  lies  Ilininiels  was  angry  with  Israel  for  reminding 
Him  of  his  former  obscure  national  relations — what  was  it 
but  a  lively  rendering  of  what  German  savants  said  so  un- 
readably  about  the  evolution  of  the  God-Idea  ?  But  she 
felt  also  it  would  have  been  finer  to  bear  unsmiling  the 
smilelcss  destinies  ;  not  to  aifront  witli  the  tinkle  of  vain 

344 


FKOM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

laughter  the  wast  imperturbable.     She  answered   gently, 
"You  are  talking  nonsense." 
*'  I  always  talked  nonsense  to  yon,  little  Lucy,  for 

'  M}^  heart  is  wise  and  witty 
And  it  bleeds  within  my  breast.' 

Will  you  hear  its  melodious  drip-drip,  my  last  poem  ? — 
My  manuscript,  Catherine  ;  and  then  you  can  go  take  a 
nap.     I  am  sure  I  gave  you  little  rest  last  night." 

The  old  woman  brought  him  some  folio  sheets  covered 
Avith  great  pathetically  sprawling  letters,  and  when  she  had 
retired,  he  began — 

"  Wie  langsam  kiicchet  sic  daiiin, 
Die  Zeit,  die  schaudeihafte  Schnecke.  .  .  .  ?" 

Ilis  voice  went  on,  but  after  the  first  lines  the  listener's 
brain  was  too  troubled  to  attend.  It  was  agitated  with 
whirling  memories  of  those  earlier  outcries  throbbing  with 
the  passion  of  life,  flaming  records  of  the  days  when  every 
instant  held  not  an  eternity  of  ennui,  but  of  sensibility. 
"Red  life  boils  in  my  veins.  .  .  .  Every  woman  is  to 
me  the  gift  of  a  world.  ...  I  hear  a  thousand  nightin- 
gales. ...  I  could  eat  all  the  elephants  of  Hindostan  and 
pick  my  teeth  with  the  spire  of  Strasburg  Cathedral.  .  .  . 
Life  is  the  greatest  of  blessings,  and  death  the  worst  of 
evils.  .  .  .'*'  But  the  poet  was  still  reading — she  forced 
herself  to  listen. 

"'Perhaps  with  ancient  lieathen  shapes, 
Old  faded  gods,  this  brain  is  full ; 
Who,  for  their  most  unholy  rites, 
Have  chosen  a  dead  poet's  skull.'" 

He  broke  off  suddenly.  "  No,  it  is  too  sad.  A  cry  in 
tlic  night  from  a  man  buried  alive  ;  a  new  note  in  German 

345 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

poetry — teas  sage  ich? — in  the  poetry  of  the  world.  No 
jooet  ever  had  such  a  lucky  chance  before — voijez-vons — to 
survive  his  own  death,  though  many  a  one  has  survived  his 
own  immortality.  Dici  miser  ante  obitum  nemo  debet — 
call  no  man  wretched  till  he's  dead.  ■'Tis  not  till  the  jour- 
ney is  over  that  one  can  see  the  perspective  truthfully  and 
the  tombstones  of  one's  hopes  and  illusions  marking  the 
Aveary  miles.  'Tis  not  till  one  is  dead  that  the  day  of 
judgment  can  dawn  ;  and  when  one  is  dead  one  cannot  see 
or  judge  at  all.  An  exquisite  irony.  Niclit  Wahr?  The 
wrecks  in  the  Morgue,  what  tales  they  could  tell !  But 
dead  men  tell  no  tales.  AVhile  there's  life  there's  hope  ; 
and  so  the  worst  cynicisms  have  never  been  spoken.  But 
I — I  alone — have  dodged  the  Fates.  I  am  the  dead-alive, 
the  living  dead.  I  hover  over  my  racked  body  like  a 
ghost,  and  exist  in  an  interregnum.  And  so  I  am  the  first 
mortal  in  a  position  to  demand  an  explanation.  Don't  tell 
me  I  have  sinned,  and  am  in  hell.  Most  sins  are  sins  of 
classification  by  bigots  and  poor  thinkers.  "Who  can  live 
Avithout  sinning,  or  sin  without  living  ?  All  very  well  for 
Kant  to  say  :  '  Act  so  that  your  conduct  may  be  a  law  for 
all  men  under  similar  conditions.'  But  Kant  overlooked 
that  you  are  part  of  the  conditions.  And  when  you  are  a 
Heine,  you  may  very  Avell  concede  that  future  Heines  should 
act  just  so.  It  is  easy  enough  to  be  virtuous  Avhen  you 
are  a  professor  of  pure  reason,  a  regular,  punctual  mech- 
anism, a  thing  for  the  citizens  of  Konigsberg  to  set 
their  watches  by.  ]5ut  if  you  happen  to  be  one  of 
those  fellows  to  whom  all  the  roses  iiod  and  all  the 
stars  wink  ...  I  am  for  Schelling's  principle  :  the  high- 
est spirits  are  above  the  law.  No,  no,  the  parson's  explana- 
tion won't  do.  Perhaps  heaven  holds  different  explana- 
tions, graduated  to  rising  intellects,  from  parsons  upwards. 
Moses  Lump  will  be  satisfied  with  a  gold  chair,  and  tlio 

346 


FEOM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

cherubim  singing,  '  holy  !  holy  !  holy  !'  in  Hebrew,  and  ask 
no  further  questions.  Abdullah  Ben  Osman's  mouth  Avill 
be  closed  by  the  kisses  of  houris.  Surely  Christ  will  not 
disappoint  the  poor  old  grandmother's  vision  of  Jerusalem 
the  Golden  seen  through  tear-dimmed  spectacles  as  she 
pores  over  the  family  Bible.  He  will  meet  her  at  the  gates 
of  death  with  a  wonderful  smile  of  love  ;  and,  as  she  walks 
upon  the  heavenly  Jordan's  shining  waters,  hand  in  hand 
with  Him,  she  will  see  her  erst-wrinkled  face  reflected  from 
them  in  angelic  beauty.  Ah,  but  to  tackle  a  Johann  Wolf- 
gang Goethe  or  a  Gotthold  Ephraim  Lessing — what  an 
ordeal  for  the  celestial  Professor  of  Apologetics  !  Perhaps 
that's  what  the  Gospel  means — only  by  becoming  little  chil- 
dren can  we  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  told  my  lit- 
tle god-daughter  yesterday  that  heaven  is  so  pure  and  mag- 
nificent that  they  eat  cakes  there  all  day — it  is  only  what 
the  parson  says,  translated  into  child-language — and  that 
the  little  cherubs  wipe  their  mouths  with  their  white 
wings.  'That's  very  dirty,'  said  the  child.  I  fear  that 
unless  I  become  a  child  myself  I  shall  have  severer  criti- 
cisms to  bring  against  the  cherubs.  0  God,"  he  broke  off 
suddenly,  letting  fall  the  sheets  of  manuscript  and  stretch- 
ing out  his  hands  in  prayer,  "make  me  a  child  again,  even 
before  I  die  ;  give  me  back  the  simple  faith,  the  clear 
vision  of  the  child  that  holds  its  father's  hand.  Oh,  little 
Lucy,  it  takes  me  like  that  sometimes,  and  I  have  to  cry 
for  mercy.  I  dreamt  I  was  a  child  the  other  night,  and 
saw  my  dear  father  again.  He  was  putting  on  his  wig, 
and  I  saw  him  as  through  a  cloud  of  powder.  I  rushed 
joyfully  to  embrace  him  ;  but,  as  I  aj)proached  him,  every- 
thing seemed  changing  in  the  mist.  I  wished  to  kiss  his 
hands,  but  I  recoiled  with  mortal  cold.  The  fingers  were 
withered  branches,  my  father  himself  a  leafless  tree,  which 
the  winter  had  covered  with  hoar-frost.     Ah,  Lucy,  Lucy, 

347 


DEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

my  brain  is  full  of  madness  and  my  heart  of  sorrow.  Sing 
me  the  ballad  of  the  lady  who  took  only  one  spoonful  of 
gruel,  "with  sugar  and  spices  so  rich/" 

Astonished  at  his  memory,  she  repeated  the  song  of 
Ladye  Alice  and  Giles  Collins,  the  poet  laughing  immoder- 
ately till  at  the  end, 

"The  parson  licked  up  the  rest," 

in  his  effort  to  repeat  the  line  that  so  tickled  him,  he  fell 
into  a  fearful  spasm,  which  tore  and  twisted  him  till  his 
child's  body  lay  curved  like  a  bow.  Her  tears  fell  at  the 
sight. 

"  Don't  pity  me  too  much,"  he  gasped,  trying  to  smile 
with  his  eyes  ;  "  I  bend,  but  I  do  not  break." 

But  she,  terrified,  rang  the  bell  for  aid.  A  jovial-look- 
ing Avoman — tall  and  well-shaped — came  in,  holding  a  shirt 
she  was  sewing.  Her  eyes  and  hair  were  black,  and  her 
oval  face  had  the  rude  coloring  of  health.  iShe  brought 
into  the  death-chamber  at  once  a  whiff  of  ozone,  and  a  sug- 
gestion of  tragic  incongruity.  Nodding  pleasantly  at  the 
visitor,  she  advanced  quickly  to  the  bedside,  and  laid  her 
hand  upon  the  forehead,  sweating  with  agony. 

"  Mathilde,"  he  said,  when  the  spasm  abated,  "this  is 
little  Lucy  of  whom  I  have  never  spoken  to  you,  and  to 
whom  I  wrote  a  poem  about  her  dark-brown  eyes  which 
you  have  never  read." 

Mathilde  smiled  amiably  at  the  Eoman  matron. 

"  No,  I  have  never  read  it,"  she  said  archly.  "  They 
tell  me  that  Heine  is  a  very  clever  man,  and  writes  very 
fine  books  ;  but  I  know  nothing  about  it,  and  must  con- 
tent myself  with  trusting  to  their  word." 

"Isn't  she  adorable  ?"  cried  Heine  delightedly.  "I  have 
only  two  consolations  that  sit  at  my  bedside,  my  French 
wife  and  my  Gcrnian  muse,  and  they  are  not  on  speaking 

348 


FROM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

terms.  But  it  has  its  compensations,  for  she  is  unable  also 
to  read  what  my  enemies  in  Germany  say  about  me,  and 
so  she  continues  to  love  me." 

"  How  can  he  have  enemies  ?"  said  Mathilde,  smoothing 
his  hair.  "He  is  so  good  to  everybody.  He  has  only  two 
thoughts — to  hide  his  illness  from  his  mother,  and  to  earn 
enough  for  my  future.  And  as  for  having  enemies  in  Ger- 
many, how  can  that  be,  when  he  is  so  kind  to  every  poor 
German  that  passes  through  Paris  ?" 

It  moved  the  hearer  to  tears — this  wifely  faith.  Surely 
the  saint  that  lay  behind  the  Mephistopheles  in  his  face 
must  have  as  real  an  existence,  if  the  woman  who  knew 
him  only  as  man,  undazzled  by  the  glitter  of  his  fame,  un- 
wearied by  his  long  sickness,  found  him  thus  without  flaw 
or  stain. 

'•'Delicious  creature,"  said  Heine  fondly.  "^'Not  only 
thinks  me  good,  but  thinks  that  goodness  keeps  off  ene- 
mies. What  ignorance  of  life  she  crams  into  a  dozen  words. 
As  for  those  poor  countrymen  of  mine,  they  are  just  the 
people  that  carry  back  to  Germany  all  the  awful  tales  of  my 
goings-on.  Do  you  know,  there  was  once  a  poor  devil  of  a 
musician  who  had  set  my  Ziuei  Grenadiere,  and  to  whom  I 
gave  no  end  of  help  and  advice,  when  he  wanted  to  make 
an  opera  on  the  legend  of  the  Flying  Dutchman,  which  I 
had  treated  in  one  of  my  books.  Now  he  curses  me  and  all 
the  Jews  together,  and  his  name  is  Richard  Wagner." 

Mathilde  smiled  on  vaguely.  "You  would  eat  those 
cutlets,"  she  said  reprovingly. 

"Well,  I  was  weary  of  the  chopped  grass  cook  calls  spin- 
ach.    I  don't  want  seven  years  of  Ncbuchadnezzardoin." 

"  Cook  is  angry  when  you  don't  eat  her  things,  chen.  I 
find  it  difficult  to  get  on  with  her,  since  you  praised  her 
dainty  style.  One  would  think  she  was  the  mistress  and 
I  the  servant." 

849 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  Ah,  Nonotte,  you  don't  understand  the  artistic  tem- 
perament." Then  a  twitch  passed  over  his  face.  "You 
must  give  me  a  double  dose  of  morphia  to-night,  darling." 

"No,  no  ;  the  doctor  forbids." 

"  One  would  thiuk  he  were  the  employer  and  I  the  em- 
ployee," he  grumbled  smilingly.  "  But  I  daresay  he  is 
right.  Already  I  spend  500  francs  a  year  on  morpliia,  I 
must  really  retrench.  80  run  away,  dearest,  I  have  a  good 
friend  here  to  cheer  me  up." 

She  stooped  down  and  kissed  him. 

"  Ah,  madame,"  she  said,  "  it  is  very  good  of  you  to  come 
and  cheer  him  up.  It  is  as  good  as  a  new  dress  to  me,  to 
see  a  new  face  coming  in,  for  the  old  ones  begin  to  drop 
off.  Not  the  dresses,  the  friends,"  she  added  gaily,  as  she 
disappeared. 

"Isn't  she  divine  ?"  cried  Heine  enthusiastically. 

"  I  am  glad  you  love  her,"  his  visitor  replied  simply. 

"  You  mean  you  are  astonished.  Love  ?  What  is  love  ? 
I  have  never  loved." 

"You  !"  And  all  those  stories  those  countrymen  of  his 
had  spread  abroad,  all  his  own  love-poems  were  in  that  ex- 
clamation. 

"  No — never  mortal  woman.  Only  statues  and  the  beau- 
tiful dead  dream-women,  vanished  with  the  nciges  crantan. 
What  did  it  matter  whom  I  married  ?  Perhaps  you  would 
have  had  me  aspire  higher  than  ii  grisette?  To  a  trades- 
man's daughter  ?  Or  a  demoiselle  in  society  ?  *  Explain 
my  position  ?'  —  a  poor  exile's  position  —  to  some  double- 
chinned  honrgeois  papa  who  can  only  see  that  my  immor- 
tal books  are  worth  exactly  two  thousand  marks  banco;  yes, 
that's  the  most  I  can  wring  out  of  those  scoundrels  in 
■wicked  Hamburg.  And  to  think  tliat  if  I  had  only  done 
my  writing  in  ledgers,  the  'prentice  millionaire  might  have 
become  the  master  millionaire,  ungalled  by  avuncular  ad- 

350 


FEOM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

vice  and  chary  cheques.  Ah,  dearest  Lucy,  you  can  never 
understand  what  we  others  suffer — you  into  whose  mouths 
the  larks  drop  roasted.  Should  I  marry  fashion  and  be 
stifled  ?  Or  money  and  be  patronized  ?  And  lose  the  ex- 
quisite pleasure  of  toiling  to  buy  my  wife  new  dresses  and 
knick-knacks?  Apr^s  tout,  Mathilde  is  quite  as  intelli- 
gent as  any  other  daughter  of  Eve,  whose  first  thought 
when  she  came  to  reflective  consciousness  was  a  new  dress. 
All  great  men  are  mateless,  'tis  only  their  own  ribs  they  fall 
in  love  with.  A  more  cultured  woman  would  only  have 
misunderstood  me  more  pretentiously.  Not  that  I  didn't, 
in  a  weak  moment,  try  to  give  her  a  little  polish.  I  sent 
her  to  a  boarding-school  to  learn  to  read  and  write ;  my 
child  of  nature  among  all  the  little  school-girls — ha  !  ha  ! 
ha  I — and  I  only  visited  her  on  Sundays,  and  she  could  rat- 
tle off  the  Egyptian  Kings  better  than  I,  and  once  she  told 
me  with  great  excitement  the  story  of  Lucretia,  which  she 
had  heard  for  the  first  time.  Dear  Nonotte  !  You  should 
have  seen  her  dancing  at  the  school  ball,  as  graceful  and 
maidenly  as  the  smallest  shrimp  of  them  all.  What  gaiete 
de  coeur!  What  good  humor !  What  mother-wit !  And  such 
a  faithful  chum.  Ah,  the  French  women  are  Avonderf  ul.  We 
have  been  married  fifteen  years,  and  still,  when  I  hear  her 
laugh  come  through  that  door,  my  soul  turns  from  the  gates 
of  death  and  remembers  the  sun.  Oh,  how  I  love  to  see  her 
go  off  to  Mass  every  morning  Avith  her  toilette  nicely  ad- 
justed and  her  dainty  prayer-book  in  her  neatly  gloved 
hand,  for  she's  adorably  religious,  is  my  little  Nonotte. 
You  look  surprised ;  did  you  then  think  religious  people 
shock  me  !" 

She  smiled  a  little.     '"  But  don't  you  shock  her  ?" 
"  I  wouldn't  for  worlds  utter  a  blasphemy  she  could  un- 
derstand.    Do  you  think  Shakespeare  explained  himself  to 
Ann  Hathaway  ?     But  she  doubtless  served  well  enough  as 

351 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

artist's  model  ;  raw  material  to  be  worked  up  into  Imogens 
and  Rosalinds.  Enchanting  creatures  !  How  you  foggy 
islanders  could  have  begotten  Shakespeare  !  The  miracle 
of  miracles.  And  Sterne  !  Mais  non,  an  Irishman  like 
Swift,     ^a  s'exjMque.     Is  Sterne  read  ?" 

"No;  he  is  only  a  classic." 

"  Barbarians  !  Have  you  read  my  book  on  Shakespeare's 
heroines  ?     It  is  good  ;  nicht  walir?" 

"Admirable." 

"  Then,  why  shouldn't  you  translate  it  into  English  ?" 

"  It  is  an  idea." 

"  It  is  an  inspiration.  Nay,  why  shouldn't  you  translate 
all  my  books  ?  You  shall ;  you  must.  You  know  how  the 
French  Qiliixon  fait  fweur.  French,  that  is  the  European 
hall  -  mark,  for  Paris  is  Athens,  But  English  will  mean 
fame  in  ultima  TJiule ;  the  isles  of  the  sea,  as  the  Bible 
says.  It  isn't  for  the  gold  pieces,  though,  God  knows,  Ma- 
thilde  needs  more  friends,  as  we  call  them  —  perhaps  be- 
cause they  leave  us  so  soon.  I  fear  she  doesn't  treat  them 
too  considerately,  the  poor  little  featherhead.  Heaven  pre- 
serve you  from  the  irony  of  having  to  earn  your  living  on 
your  death-bed  !  Aclt,  my  publisher,  Campe,  has  built  him- 
self a  new  establishment ;  what  a  monument  to  me  !  Why 
should  not  some  English  publisher  build  me  a  monument 
in  London  ?  The  Jew's  books,  like  the  Jew,  should  be 
sj)read  abroad,  so  that  in  them  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
shall  be  blessed.  For  the  Jew  peddles,  not  only  old  clo', 
but  new  ideas.  I  began  life — tell  it  not  in  Gath — as  a 
commission  agent  for  English  goods ;  and  I  end  it  as  an 
intermediary  between  France  and  Germany,  trying  to 
make  two  great  nations  understand  each  other.  To 
that  not  unworthy  aim  has  all  my  later  work  been  de- 
voted." 

"So  you  really  consider  yourself  a  Jew  still  ?" 

353 


FEOM    A    MATTEESS    GRAVE 

*'  Mem  Gott !  have  I  ever  been  anything  else  but  an  ene- 
my of  the  Philistines  ?" 

She  smiled  :  "  Yes  ;  but  religiously  ?" 

"  Religiously  !  What  was  my  whole  fight  to  rouse  Hodge 
out  of  his  thousand  years'  sleep  in  his  hole  ?  Why  did  I  edit 
a  newspaper,  and  plague  myself  with  our  time  and  its  in- 
terests ?  Goethe  has  created  glorious  Greek  statues,  but 
statues  cannot  have  children.  My  words  should  find  issue 
in  deeds.  Put  me  rather  with  poor  Lessiug.  I  am  no 
true  Hellenist.  I  may  have  snatched  at  pleasure,  but  self- 
sacrifice  has  always  called  to  the  depths  of  me.  Like  my 
ancestor,  David,  I  have  been  not  only  a  singer,  I  have  slung 
my  smooth  little  pebbles  at  the  forehead  of  Goliath." 

"  Yes  ;  but  haven't  you  turned  Catholic  ?" 

"  Catholic  !"  he  roared  like  a  roused  lion,  '^they  say  that 
again  !  Has  the  myth  of  death -bed  conversion  already 
arisen  about  me  ?  How  they  jump,  the  fools,  at  the  idea  of 
a  man's  coming  round  to  their  views  when  his  brain  grows 
weak  !" 

"No,  not  death-bed  conversion.  Quite  an  old  history. 
I  was  assured  you  had  married  in  a  Catholic  Church." 

"To  please  Mathilde.  Without  that  the  poor  creature 
wouldn't  have  thought  herself  married  in  a  manner  suffi- 
ciently pleasing  to  God.  It  is  true  we  had  been  living  to- 
gether without  any  Church  blessing  at  all,  but  que  voulez- 
vous?  Women  are  like  that.  But  for  a  duel  I  had  to  fight, 
I  should  have  been  satisfied  to  go  on  as  we  were.  I  un- 
derstand by  a  wife  something  nobler  than  a  married  woman 
chained  to  me  by  money-brokers  and  parsons,  and  I  deemed 
my  faux  menage  far  firmer  than  many  a  "true"  one.  But 
since  I  was  to  be  married,  I  could  not  leave  my  beloved 
Nonotte  a  dubious  widowhood.  We  even  invited  a  number 
of  Bohemian  couples  to  the  wedding-feast,  and  bade  them 
follow  our  example  in  daring  the  last  step  of  all.     Ha !  ha ! 

z  353 


DEEAMEES    OF   THE    GHETTO 

there  is  nothing  like  a  convert's  zeal,  yon  see.  Bnt  con- 
vert to  Catholicism,  that's  another  pair  of  sleeves.  If  your 
right  eye  offends  yon,  plnck  it  out ;  if  your  right  arm 
offends  yon,  cut  it  off.  And  if  your  reason  offends  you, 
become  a  Catholic.  No,  no,  Lucy,  I  may  have  worshipped 
the  Madonna  in  song,  for  how  can  a  poet  be  insensible  to  the 
beauty  of  Catholic  symbol  and  ritual  ?  But  a  Jew  I  have 
always  been." 

"Despite  your  baptism  ?" 

The  sufferer  groaned,  but  not  from  physical  pain. 

"Ah,  cruel  little  Lucy,  don't  remind  me  of  my  youthful 
folly.  Thank  your  stars  you  Avere  born  an  Englishwoman. 
I  was  born  under  the  fearful  conjunction  of  Christian  big- 
otry and  Jewish,  in  the  Judenstrasse.  In  my  cradle  lay  my 
line  of  life  marked  out  from  beginning  to  end.  My  God, 
what  a  life  !  Yon  know  how  Germany  treated  her  Jews — 
like  pariahs  and  wild  beasts.  At  Frankfort  for  centuries 
the  most  venerable  Eabbi  had  to  take  off  his  hat  if  the 
smallest  gamin  cried  :  '  Jud',  mach  mores  !'  I  have  myself 
been  shut  up  in  that  Ghetto,  I  have  witnessed  a  Jew-riot 
more  than  once  in  Hamburg.  Ah,  Judaism  is  not  a  relig- 
ion, but  a  misfortune.  And  to  be  born  a  Jew  and  a  genius  ! 
What  a  double  curse  !  Believe  me,  Lucy,  a  certificate  of 
baptism  was  a  necessary  card  of  admission  to  European 
culture.  Neither  my  mother  nor  my  money-bag  of  an 
uncle  sympathized  with  my  shuddering  reluctance  to  wade 
through  holy  water  to  my  doctor's  degree.  And  yet  no 
sooner  had  I  taken  the  dip  than  a  great  horror  came  over 
me.  Many  a  tin)e  I  got  up  at  night  and  looked  in  the 
glass,  and  cursed  myself  for  my  want  of  backbone  !  Alas  ! 
my  curses  were  more  potent  than  those  of  the  Eabbis 
against  Spinoza,  and  this  disease  was  sent  me  to  destroy 
such  backbone  as  I  had.  No  wonder  the  doctors  do  not 
understand  it.     I  learnt  in  the  Ghetto  that  if  I  didn't  twine 

334 


FROM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

the  holy  phylacteries  round  my  arm,  serpents  would  be 
found  coiled  round  the  arm  of  my  corpse.  Alas  !  serpents 
have  never  failed  to  coil  themselves  round  my  sins.  The 
Inquisition  could  not  have  tortured  me  more,  had  I  been  a 
Jew  of  Spain.  If  I  had  known  how  much  easier  moral  pain 
was  to  bear  than  physical,  I  would  have  saved  my  curses 
for  my  enemies,  and  put  up  with  my  conscience  -  twinges. 
Ah,  truly  said  your  divine  Shakespeare  that  the  wisest 
philosopher  is  not  proof  against  a  toothache.  When  was 
any  spasm  of  pleasure  so  sustained  as  pain  ?  Certain  of  our 
bones,  I  learn  from  my  anatomy  books,  only  manifest  their 
existence  when  they  are  injured.  Happy  are  the  bones 
that  have  no  history.  Ugh  !  how  mine  are  coming  through 
the  skin,  like  ugly  truth  through  fair  romance.  I  shall 
have  to  apologize  to  the  worms  for  offering  them  nothing 
but  bones.  Alas,  how  ugly  bitter  it  is  to  die  ;  how  sweet 
and  snugly  we  can  live  in  this  snug,  sweet  nest  of  earth. 
What  nice  words  ;  I  must  start  a  poem  with  them.  Yes, 
sooner  than  die  I  would  live  over  again  my  miserable  boy- 
hood in  my  uncle  Salomon's  office,  miscalculating  in  his 
ledgers  like  a  Trinitarian,  while  I  scribbled  poems  for 
the  Hamburg  WdcMer.  Yes,  I  would  even  rather  learu 
Latin  again  at  the  Franciscan  cloister,  and  grind  law  at 
Gottingen.  For,  after  all,  I  shouldn't  have  to  Avork  very 
hard ;  a  pretty  girl  passes,  and  to  the  deuce  with  the  Pan- 
dects I  Ah,  those  wild  University  days,  when  we  used  to 
go  and  sup  at  the  '  Landwehr,'  and  the  rosy  young  Kell- 
nerin,  who  brought  us  our  duck  mit  Apfelkompoi,  kissed 
me  alone  of  all  the  Herren  Studenten,  because  I  was  a  poet, 
and  already  as  famous  as  the  professors.  And  then,  after 
I  should  be  re-rusticated  from  Gottingen,  there  Avould  be 
Berlin  over  again,  and  dear  Rahel  Levin  and  her  salon,  and 
the  Tuesdays  at  Elisc  von  Hohcnhauscn's  (at  which  I  would 
read  my  Lyrical  Intermezzo),  and  the  mad  literary  nights 

355 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

with  the  poets  in  the  Behrenstrasse.  And  balls,  theatres, 
operas,  masquerades — shall  I  ever  forget  the  ball  when  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  son  appeared  as  a  Scotch  Highlander,  just 
when  all  Berlin  was  mad  about  the  Waverley  Novels  !  I, 
too,  should  read  them  over  again  for  the  first  time,  those 
wonderful  romances;  yes,  and  I  should  write  my  own  early 
books  over  again  —  oh,  the  divine  joy  of  early  creation  ! — 
and  I  should  set  out  again  with  bounding  pulses  on  my 
Harzreise :  and  the  first  night  of  FreischiUz  would  come 
once  more,  and  I  should  be  whistling  the  Jungfern  and  sip- 
ping punch  in  the  Casino,  with  Lottchen  filling  up  my 
glass."  His  eyes  oozed  tears,  and  suddenly  he  stretched 
out  his  arms  and  seized  her  hand  and  pressed  it  frantically, 
his  face  and  body  convulsed,  his  paralyzed  eyelids  dropping. 
"No,  no!"  he  pleaded,  in  a  hoarse,  hollow  voice,  as  she 
strove  to  withdraw  it,  "  I  hear  the  footsteps  of  death,  I 
must  cling  on  to  life  ;  I  must,  I  must.  0  the  warmth  and 
the  scent  of  it  !" 

She  shuddered.  For  an  instant  he  seemed  a  vampire  with 
shut  eyes  sucking  at  her  life-blood  to  sustain  his ;  and  when 
that  horrible  fantasy  passed,  there  remained  the  over- 
whelming tragedy  of  a  dead  man  lusting  for  life.  Not  this 
the  ghost,  who,  as  Berlioz  put  it,  stood  at  the  window  of 
his  grave,  regarding  and  mocking  the  world  in  which  he 
had  no  further  part.  But  his  fury  waned,  he  fell  back  as 
in  a  stupor,  and  lay  silent,  little  twitches  passing  over  his 
sightless  face. 

She  bent  over  him,  terribly  distressed.  Should  she  go  ? 
Should  she  ring  again  ?  Presently  words  came  from  his 
lips  at  intervals,  abrupt,  disconnected,  and  now  a  ribald 
laugh,  and  now  a  tearful  sigh.  And  then  he  was  a  student 
humming  : 

"Gaudeamus  igitur,  juveDes  dum  sumus," 
856 


FKOM    A    MATTKESS    GRAVE 

and  his  death-mask  lit  np  with  the  wild  joys  of  living. 
And  then  earlier  memories  still — of  his  childhood  in  Diis- 
seldorf  —  seemed  to  flow  through  his  comatose  brain  ;  his 
mother  and  brothers  and  sisters ;  the  dancing-master  he 
threw  out  of  the  window  ;  the  emancipation  of  the  Jewry 
by  the  French  conquerors  ;  the  joyous  drummer  who  taught 
him  French  ;  the  passing  of  Napoleon  on  his  white  horse  ; 
the  atheist  school-boy  friend  Avith  whom  he  studied  Spinoza 
on  the  sly,  and  the  country  louts  from  whom  he  bought 
birds  merely  to  set  them  free,  and  the  blood-red  hair  of  the 
hangman^s  niece  who  sang  him  folk-songs.  And  suddenly 
he  came  to  himself,  raised  his  eyelid  with  his  forefinger  and 
looked  at  her. 

"Catholic!"  he  cried  angrily.  "I  never  returned  to 
Judaism,  because  I  never  left  it.  My  baptism  was  a  mere 
wetting.  I  have  never  put  Heinrich  —  only  H  —  on  my 
books,  and  never  have  I  ceased  to  write  '  Harry '  to  my 
mother.  Though  the  Jews  hate  me  even  more  than  the 
Christians,  yet  I  was  always  on  the  side  of  my  brethren." 

"I  know,  I  know,"  she  said  soothingly.  "  I  am  sorry  I 
hurt  you.  I  remember  well  the  passage  in  which  you  say 
that  your  becoming  a  Christian  was  the  fault  of  the  Saxons 
who  changed  sides  suddenly  at  Leipzig;  or  else  of  Napo- 
leon who  had  no  need  to  go  to  Eussia  ;  or  else  of  his  school- 
master who  gave  him  instruction  at  Brienne  in  geography, 
and  did  not  tell  him  that  it  was  very  cold  at  Moscow  in 
winter." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  he  said,  pacified.  "  Let  them  not  say 
either  that  I  have  been  converted  to  Judaism  on  my  death- 
bed. Was  not  my  first  poem  based  on  one  in  the  Passover 
night  Ilagadah  9  Was  not  my  first  tragedy,  Almansor,  really 
the  tragedy  of  down-trodden  Israel,  that  great  race  which 
from  the  ruins  of  its  second  Temple  knew  to  save,  not  the 
gold  and  the  precious  stones,  but  its  real  treasure,  the  Bible 

357 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

— a  gift  to  the  world  that  wouki  make  the  tourist  traverse 
oceans  to  see  a  Jew,  if  there  were  only  one  left  alive.  The 
only  people  that  preserved  freedom  of  thought  through  the 
middle  ages,  they  have  now  to  preserve  God  against  the 
free-thought  of  the  modern  world.  We  are  the  Swiss  guards 
of  Deism.  God  was  always  the  beginning  and  end  of  my 
thought.  When  I  hear  His  existence  questioned,  I  feel  as 
I  felt  once  in  your  Bedlam  when  I  lost  my  guide,  a  ghastly 
forlornness  in  a  mad  world.  Is  not  my  best  work,  The 
Rabbi  of  Bacharacli,  devoted  to  expressing  the  '  vast  Jew- 
ish sorrow,'  as  Borne  calls  it  ?" 

"  But  you  never  finished  it  ?" 

"  I  was  a  fool  to  be  persuaded  by  Moser.  Or  was  it  Gans  ? 
Ah,  will  not  Jehovah  count  it  to  me  for  righteousness,  that 
New  Jerusalem  Brotherhood  with  them  in  the  days  when  I 
dreamt  of  reconciling  Jew  and  Greek  —  the  goodness  of 
beauty  with  the  beauty  of  goodness  !  Oh,  those  days  of 
youthful  dreams,  whose  winters  are  warmer  than  the  sum- 
mers of  the  after  years.  How  they  tried  to  crush  us,  the 
Rabbis  and  the  State  alike  !  0  the  brave  Moser,  the  lofty- 
souled,  the  pure-hearted,  who  passed  from  counting-house 
to  laboratory,  and  studied  Sanscrit  for  recreation,  moriturus 
te  saluto.  And  thou,  too,  Markus,  with  thy  boy's  body, 
and  thy  old  man's  look,  and  thy  encyclopaedic,  inorganic 
mind  ;  and  thou,  0  Gans,  with  thy  too  organic  Hegelian 
hocus-pocus.  Yes,  the  Rabbis  were  right,  and  the  bap- 
tismal font  had  us  at  last ;  but  surely  God  counts  the  Avill 
to  do,  and  is  more  pleased  with  great-hearted  dreams  than 
with  the  deeds  of  the  white -hearted  burghers  of  virtue, 
whose  goodness  is  essence  of  gendarmerie.  And  where, 
indeed — if  not  in  Judaism,  broadened  by  Hellenism — shall 
one  find  the  religion  of  the  future  ?  Be  sure  of  this,  any- 
how, that  only  a  Jew  will  find  it.  We  have  the  gift  of  re- 
ligion, the  wisdom  of  the  ages.     You  others — young  races 

358 


FROM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

fresh  from  staining  your  bodies  with  woad — have  never  yet 
got  as  far  as  Moses.  Moses — that  giant  ligure — who  dwarfs 
Sinai  when  he  stands  upon  it,  the  great  artist  in  life,  who, 
as  I  point  ont  in  my  Confessions  built  human  pyramids ;  who 
created  Israel ;  who  took  a  poor  shepherd  family,  and  cre- 
ated a  nation  from  it — a  great,  eternal,  holy  people,  a  peo- 
ple of  God,  destined  to  outlive  the  centuries,  and  to  serve 
as  a  pattern  to  all  other  nations — a  statesman,  not  a  dream- 
er, who  did  not  deny  the  world  and  the  flesh,  but  sancti- 
fied it.  Happiness,  is  it  not  implied  in  the  very  aspiration 
of  the  Christian  for  postmundane  bliss  ?  And  yet,  '  the 
man  Moses  was  very  meek ' ;  the  most  humble  and  lovable 
of  men.  He  too — though  it  is  always  ignored — was  ready 
to  die  for  the  sins  of  others,  praying,  when  his  people  had 
sinned,  that  liis  name  might  be  blotted  out  instead ;  and 
though  God  offered  to  make  of  him  a  great  nation,  yet  did 
he  prefer  the  greatness  of  his  people.  He  led  them  to 
Palestine,  but  his  own  foot  never  touched  the  promised 
land.  What  a  glorious.  Godlike  figure,  and  yet  so  prone 
to  wrath  and  error,  so  lovably  human.  How  he  is  modelled 
all  round  like  a  Rembrandt — while  your  starveling  monks 
have  made  of  your  Christ  a  mere  decorative  figure  with  a 
gold  halo.  0  Moshe  Rabbenu,  Moses  our  teacher  indeed  ! 
No,  Christ  was  not  the  first  nor  the  last  of  our  race  to  wear 
a  crown  of  thorns.  What  Avas  Spinoza  but  Christ  in  the 
key  of  meditation  ?" 

'^Wherever  a  great  soul  speaks  out  his  thoughts,  there 
is  Golgotha,"  quoted  the  listener. 

''Ah,  you  know  every  word  I  have  written,"  he  said, 
childishly  pleased.  "Decidedly,  you  must  translate  me. 
You  shall  be  my  apostle  to  the  heathen.  You  are  good 
apostles,  you  English.  You  turned  Jews  under  Cromwell, 
and  now  your  missionaries  are  planting  our  Palestinian  doc- 
trines in  the  South  Seas,  or  amid  the  josses  and  pagodas  of 

359 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  East,  and  your  young  men  are  colonizing  unknown 
continents  on  the  basis  of  the  Decalogue  of  Moses.  You 
are  founding  a  world-wide  Palestine.  The  law  goes  forth 
from  Zion,  but  by  way  of  Liverpool  and  Southampton. 
Perhaps  you  are  indeed  the  lost  Ten  Tribes." 

"  Then  you  would  make  me  a  Jew,  too,"  she  laughed. 

"Jew  or  Greek,  there  are  only  two  religious  possibilities 
— fetish -dances  and  spinning  dervishes  don't  count  —  the 
Renaissance  meant  the  revival  of  these  two  influences,  and 
since  the  sixteenth  century  they  have  both  been  increasing 
steadily.  Luther  was  a  child  of  the  Old  Testament.  Since 
the  Exodus,  Freedom  has  always  spoken  with  a  Hebrew  ac- 
cent. Christianity  is  Judaism  run  divinely  mad,  a  religion 
without  a  drainage  system,  a  beautiful  dream  dissevered 
from  life,  soul  cut  adrift  from  body,  and  sent  floating 
through  the  empyrean,  when  it  can  only  at  best  be  a  cap- 
tive balloon.  At  the  same  time,  don't  take  your  idea  of 
Judaism  from  the  Jews.  It  is  only  uu  apostolic  succession 
of  great  souls  that  understands  anything  in  this  world. 
The  Jewish  mission  will  never  be  over  till  the  Christians 
are  converted  to  the  religion  of  Christ.  Lassalle  is  a  better 
pupil  of  the  Master  than  the  priests  who  denounce  social- 
ism. You  have  met  Lassalle  I  Iso  ?  You  shall  meet  him 
here  one  day.  A  marvel.  Me  plus  Will.  He  knows  ev- 
erything, feels  everything,  yet  is  a  sledge-hammer  to  act. 
He  may  yet  bo  the  Messiah  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Ah !  when  every  man  is  a  Spinoza,  and  does  good  for  the 
love  of  good,  when  the  Avorld  is  ruled  by  justice  and  broth- 
erhood, reason  and  humor,  then  the  Jews  may  shut  up 
shop,  for  it  will  be  the  Holy  Sabbath.  Did  you  mark, 
Lucy,  I  said,  reason  and  humor  ?  Nothing  will  survive  in 
the  long  run  but  what  satisfies  the  sense  of  logic,  and  the 
sense  of  humor.  Logic  and  laughter— the  two  trumps  of 
doom  !     Put  not  your  trust  in  princes — the  really  great  of 

360 


FROM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

the  earth  are  always  simple.  Pomp  and  ceremonial,  popes 
and  kings,  are  toys  for  children.  Christ  rode  on  an  ass, 
now  the  ass  rides  on  Christ.'" 

"And  how  long  do  you  give  your  trumps  to  sonnd  he- 
fore  your  Millenninni  dawns  ?"  said  "little  Lucy,"  feeling 
strangely  old  and  cynical  beside  this  incorrigible  idealist. 

"  Alas,  perhaps  I  am  only  another  dreamer  of  the  Ghetto, 
perhaps  1  have  fought  in  vain.  A  Jewish  woman  once  came 
Aveeping  to  her  Rabbi  with  her  son,  and  complained  that 
the  boy,  instead  of  going  respectably  into  business  like  his 
sires,  had  developed  religion,  and  insisted  on  training  for 
a  Rabbi.  AVould  not  the  Rabbi  dissuade  him  ?  '  But,' 
said  the  Rabbi,  chagrined,  '  why  are  you  so  distressed 
about  it  ?  Am  /  not  a  Rabbi  ?'  '  Yes,'  replied  the  wom- 
an, 'but  this  little  fool  takes  it  seriously.'  Ach,  .every 
now  and  again  arises  a  dreamer  who  takes  the  world's  lip- 
faith  seriously,  and  the  world  tramples  on  another  fool. 
Perhaps  there  is  no  resurrection  for  humanity.  If  so,  if 
there's  no  world's  Saviour  coming  by  the  railway,  let  us 
keep  the  figure  of  that  sublime  Dreamer  whose  blood  is 
balsam  to  the  poor  and  the  suffering." 

Marvelling  at  the  mental  lucidity,  the  spiritual  loftiness 
of  his  changed  mood,  his  visitor  wished  to  take  leave  of 
him  with  this  image  in  her  memory  ;  but  just  then  a  half- 
paralyzed  Jewish  graybeard  made  his  appearance,  and 
Heine's  instant  dismissal  of  him  on  her  account  made  it 
difficult  not  to  linger  a  little  longer. 

"My  cJief  de  'police r  he  said,  smiling.  "He  lives  on 
me  and  I  live  on  his  reports  of  the  great  world.  He  tells 
me  what  my  enemies  are  up  to.  But  I  have  them  in  there," 
and  he  pointed  to  an  ebony  box  on  a  chest  of  drawers,  and 
asked  her  to  hand  it  to  him. 

"Pardon  me  before  I  forget,"  he  said;  and,  seizing  a 
pencil  like  a  dagger,  he  made  a  sprawling  note,  laughing 

361 


DKEAMERS    OP    THE    GHETTO 

venomously.  "1  have  them  here!"  he  repeated,  ''they 
will  try  to  stop  the  publication  of  my  Memoirs,  but  I  will 
outwit  them  yet.  I  hold  them  !  Dead  or  alive,  they  shall 
not  escape  me.  Woe  to  him  who  shall  read  these  lines,  if 
he  has  dared  attack  me.  Heine  does  not  die  like  the  first 
comer.  The  tiger's  claws  will  survive  the  tiger.  "When  I 
die,  it  will  be  for  them  the  Day  of  Judgment." 

It  was  a  reminder  of  the  long  fighting  life  of  the  free- 
lance, of  all  the  stories  she  had  heard  of  his  sordid  quarrels, 
of  his  blackmailing  his  relatives,  and  besting  his  uncle. 
She  asked  herself  his  own  question,  "Is  genius,  like  the 
pearl  in  the  oyster,  only  a  splendid  disease  ?" 

Aloud  she  said,  '"I  hope  you  are  done  with  Borne  V 
"  Borne  ?"  he  said,  softening.  "Ach,  what  have  I  against 
Borne  ?  Two  baptized  German  Jews  exiled  in  Paris  should 
forgive  each  other  in  death.  My  book  was  misunderstood. 
I  wish  to  heaven  I  hadn't  written  it.  I  always  admired 
Borne,  even  if  I  could  not  keep  up  the  ardor  of  my  St.  Si- 
monian  days  when  my  spiritual  Egeria  was  Rahel  von  Varn- 
hagen.  I  had  three  beautiful  days  with  him  in  Frankfort 
when  he  was  full  of  Jewish  wit,  and  hadn't  yet  shrunk  to 
a  mere  politician.  He  was  a  brave  soldier  of  humanity, 
but  he  had  no  sense  of  art,  and  I  could  not  stand  the  dirty 
mob  around  him  with  its  atmosphere  of  filthy  German  to- 
bacco and  vulgar  tirades  against  tyrants.  The  last  time  I 
saw  him  he  was  almost  deaf,  and  worn  to  a  skeleton  by  con- 
sumption. He  dwelt  in  a  vast,  bright  silk  dressing-gown, 
and  said  that  if  an  Emperor  shook  his  hand  he  would  cut 
it  off,  I  said  if  a  workman  shook  mine  I  sliould  wash  it. 
And  so  we  parted,  and  he  fell  to  denouncing  me  as  a  traitor 
and  apei'sifleur,  who  would  preach  monarchy  or  republican- 
ism, according  to  which  sounded  better  in  the  sentence. 
Poor  Lob  Baruch  !  Perhaps  he  was  wiser  than  I  in 
his  idea  that  his  brother  Jews  sliould  sink  themselves  in 

363 


FKOM    A    MATTRESS    GRAVE 

the  nations.  He  was  born,  by  the  way,  in  the  very  year  of 
old  Mendelssohn's  death.  What  an  irony  I  But  I  am  sorry 
for  those  insinuations  against  Mme.  Strauss.  I  have  with- 
drawn them  from  the  new  edition,  although,  as  you  per- 
haps know,  I  had  already  satisfied  her  husband's  sense  of 
justice  by  allowing  him  to  shoot  at  me,  whilst  I  fired  in 
the  air.     "What  can  I  more  ?" 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  withdrawn  them,'"'  she  said,  moved. 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  no  Napoleonic  grip,  you  see.  A  morsel 
of  conventional  conscience  clings  to  me." 

"  Therefore  I  could  never  understand  your  worship  of 
Napoleon." 

"There  speaks  the  Englishwoman.  You  Pharisees  — 
forgive  me  —  do  not  understand  great  men,  you  and  your 
Wellington  I  Napoleon  was  not  of  the  wood  of  which 
kings  are  made,  but  of  the  marble  of  the  gods.  Let  me 
tell  you  the  "code  Napoleon"  carried  light  not  only  into 
the  Ghettos,  but  into  many  another  noisome  spider-clot  of 
feudalism.  The  world  wants  earthquakes  and  thunder- 
storms, or  it  grows  corrupt  and  stagnant.  This  Paris 
needs  a  scourge  of  God,  and  the  moment  France  gives 
Germany  a  pretext,  there  will  be  sackcloth  and  ashes,  or 
prophecy  has  died  out  of  Israel." 

"•'  Qui  vivra  verra,"  ran  heedlessly  oif  her  tongue.  Then, 
blushing  painfully,  she  said  quickly,  "But  how  do  you 
worship  Napoleon  and  Moses  in  the  same  breath  ?" 

"Ah,  my  dear  Lucy,  if  your  soul  was  like  an  Aladdin's 
palace  with  a  thousand  windows  opening  on  the  human 
spectacle !  Self-contradiction  the  fools  call  it,  if  you  will 
not  shut  your  eyes  to  half  the  show.  I  love  the  people, 
yet  I  hate  their  stupidity  and  mistrust  their  leaders.  I 
hate  the  aristocrats,  yet  I  love  the  lilies  that  toil  not,  nei- 
ther do  they  spin,  and  sometimes  bring  their  perfume  and 
their  white  robes  into  a  sick  man's  chamber.     AVho  would 

363 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

harden  with  work  the  white  fingers  of  Corysande,  or  sacri- 
fice one  rustle  of  Lalage's  silken  skirts  ^  Let  the  poor 
starve  ;  I'll  have  no  potatoes  on  Parnassus.  My  socialism 
is  not  barracks  and  brown  bread,  but  purple  robes,  music, 
and  comedies. 

''Yes,  I  was  born  for  Paradox.  A  German  Parisian,  a 
Jewish  German,  a  hated  political  exile  who  yearns  for  dear 
homely  old  Germany,  a  sceptical  sufferer  with  a  Christian 
patience,  a  romantic  poet  expressing  in  classic  form  the 
modern  spirit,  a  Jew  and  poor — think  you  I  do  not  see  my- 
self as  lucidly  as  I  see  the  world  ?  '  My  mind  to  me  a 
kingdom  is '  sang  your  old  poet.  Mine  is  a  republic,  and 
all  moods  are  free,  equal  and  fraternal,  as  befits  a  cliild  of 
light.  Or  if  there  is  a  despot,  'tis  the  king's  jester,  wlio 
laughs  at  the  king  as  well  as  all  his  subjects.  But  am  I 
not  nearer  Truth  for  not  being  caged  in  a  creed  or  a  clan  ? 
Who  dares  to  think  Truth  frozen — on  this  phantasmagori- 
cal  planet,  that  whirls  in  beginningless  time  through  end- 
less space  I  Let  us  trust,  for  the  honor  of  God,  that  the 
contradictory  creeds  for  which  men  have  died  are  all  true. 
Perhaps  humor — your  right  Hegelian  touchstone  to  which 
everything  yields  up  its  latent  negation,  passing  on  to  its 
own  contradiction  —  gives  truer  lights  and  shades  than 
your  pedantic  Philistinism.  Is  Truth  really  in  the  cold 
white  light,  or  in  the  shimmering  interplay  of  the  rainbow 
tints  that  fuse  in  it  ?  Bah  !  Your  Philistine  critic  will 
sum  me  up  after  I  am  dead  in  a  phrase  ;  or  he  will  take  my 
character  to  pieces  and  show  how  they  contradict  each 
other,  and  adjudge  me,  like  a  schoolmaster,  so  many  good 
marks  for  this  quality,  and  so  many  bad  marks  for  that. 
Biographers  will  weigh  me  grocerwise,  as  Kant  weighed 
the  Deity.  Ugh  !  You  can  only  be  judged  by  your  peers 
or  by  your  superiors,  by  the  minds  that  circumscribe  yours, 
not  by  those  that  are  smaller  than  yours.     I  tell  you  that 

364 


FKOM    A    MATTKESS    GKAVE 

when  they  have  written  three  tons  about  me,  they  shall  as 
little  understand  me  as  the  Cosmos  I  reflect.  Does  the 
pine  contradict  the  rose  or  the  lotusland  the  iceberg  ?  I 
am  Spain,  I  am  Persia,  I  am  the  North  Sea,  I  am  the  beau- 
tiful gods  of  old  Greece,  I  am  Brahma  brooding  over  the 
sun- lands,  I  am  Egypt,  I  am  the  Sphinx.  But  oh,  dear 
Lucy,  the  tragedy  of  the  modern,  all-mirroring  conscious- 
ness that  dares  to  look  on  God  face  to  face,  not  content, 
with  Moses,  to  see  the  back  parts  ;  nor,  with  the  Israelites, 
to  gaze  on  Moses.  Ach,  why  was  I  not  made  four-square 
like  Moses  Mendelssohn,  or  sublimely  one-sided  like  Sa- 
vonarola ;  I,  too,  could  have  died  to  save  humanity,  if  I 
did  not  at  the  same  time  suspect  humanity  was  not  worth 
saving.  To  be  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza  in  one, 
what  a  tragedy  !  No,  your  limited  intellects  are  happier  : 
those  that  see  life  in  some  one  noble  way,  and  in  unity  find 
strength.  I  should  have  loved  to  be  a  Milton — like  one  of 
your  English  cathedrals,  austere,  breathing  sacred  mem- 
ories, resonant  with  the  roll  of  a  great  organ,  with  jiainted 
windows,  on  which  the  shadows  of  the  green  boughs  out- 
side wave  and  flicker,  and  just  hint  of  Nature.  Or  one  of 
your  aristocrats  with  a  stately  home  in  the  country,  and 
dogs  and  horses,  and  a  beautiful  wife.  In  short,  I  should 
like  to  be  your  husband.  Or,  failing  that,  my  own  wife,  a 
simple,  loving  creature,  whose  idea  of  culture  is  cabbages. 
Ach,  why  was  my  soul  wider  than  the  Ghetto  I  was  born 
in  ?  why  did  I  not  mate  with  my  kind  ?"  He  broke  into  a 
fit  of  coughing,  and  'kittle  Lucy"  thought  suddenly  of 
the  story  that  all  his  life-sadness  and  song-sadness  was  due 
to  his  rejection  by  some  Jewish  girl  in  his  own  family 
circle. 

"I  tire  you,"  she  said.     *'Do  not  talk  to  me.     I  will  sit 
here  a  little  longer." 

*'Nay,  I  have  tired  you.     But  I  could  not  but  tell  you 

365 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

my  thoughts  ;  for  yon  are  at  once  a  child  who  loves  and  a 
woman  who  understands  me.  And  to  be  understood  is 
rarer  than  to  be  loved.  My  very  parents  never  understood 
me.  Nay,  were  they  my  parents — the  mild  man  of  busi- 
ness, the  clever,  clear-headed,  romance-disdaining  Dutch- 
woman, God  bless  her  ?  No,  my  father  Avas  German}^,  my 
mother  was  the  Ghetto.  The  brooding  spirit  of  Israel 
breathes  through  me  that  engendered  the  tender  humor  of 
her  sages,  the  celestial  fantasies  of  her  saints.  Perhaps  I 
should  have  been  happier  had  I  married  the  first  black- 
eyed  Jewess  whose  father  would  put  wp  with  a  penniless 
poet.  I  might  have  kept  a  kitchen  Avith  double  crockery 
and  munched  Passover  cakes  at  Easter.  Every  Friday 
night  I  should  have  come  home  from  the  labors  of  the 
week  and  found  the  table-cloth  shining  like  my  Avife's  face, 
and  the  Sabbath  candles  burning,  and  the  Angels  of  Peace 
sitting  hidden  beneath  their  great  invisible  Avings,  and  my 
Avife,  piously  conscious  of  having  thrown  the  dough  on  the 
fire,  Avould  have  kissed  me  tenderly,  and  I  should  have  re- 
cited in  an  ancient  melody  :  'A  virtuous  woman,  Avho  can 
find  her  ?  Her  price  is  far  above  rubies.^  There  Avould 
have  been  little  children  Avith  great  candid  eyes,  on  Avhose 
innocent  heads  I  should  have  laid  my  hands  in  blessing, 
praying  that  God  might  make  them  like  Ephraim  and  Ma- 
nasseh,  Rachel  and  Leah  —  persons  of  dubious  exemplari- 
ness  —  and  Ave  should  have  sat  down  and  eaten  Scludct, 
which  is  the  divinest  dish  in  the  Avorld,  jicnding  tlie  Levia- 
than that  awaits  the  blessed  at  Messiah's  table.  And,  in- 
stead of  singing  of  cocottes  and  mermaids,  I  should  have 
sung,  like  Jehuda  Halevi,  of  my  Herzensdame,  Jerusalem. 
Perhaps  —  Avho  knoAvs  ?  —  my  HebreAv  verses  Avould  have 
been  incorporated  in  the  festiA^al  liturgy,  and  pious  old 
men  Avould  have  snuffled  them  helter-skelter  through 
their  noses.     The  letters   of   my   name   Avould   have   run 

366 


FEOM    A    MATTKESS    GEAVE 

acrosticwise  down  the  verses,  and  the  last  verse  would  have 
inspired  the  cantor  to  jubilant  roulades  or  tremolo  wails 
while  the  choir  boomed  in  '  Pom ' ;  and  jierhaps  many  a 
Jewish  banker,  to  whom  my  present  poems  make  so  little 
appeal,  would  have  wept  and  beat  his  breast  and  taken 
snuff  to  the  words  of  them.  And  I  should  have  been 
buried  honorably  in  the  'House  of  Life,'  and  my  son 
would  have  said  Kaddish.  Ah  me,  it  is,  after  all,  so  much 
better  to  be  stupid  and  walk  in  the  old  laid  -  out,  well- 
trimmed  paths,  than  to  wander  after  the  desires  of  your 
own  heart  and  your  own  eyes  over  the  blue  hills.  True, 
there  are  glorious  vistas  to  explore,  and  streams  of  living 
silver  to  bathe  in,  and  wild  horses  to  catch  by  the  mane, 
but  you  are  in  a  chartless  land  without  stars  and  compass. 
One  false  step  and  you  are  over  a  precipice,  or  uj)  to  your 
ueck  in  a  slough.  Ah,  it  is  perilous  to  throw  over  the  old 
surveyors.  I  see  Moses  ben  Amram,  with  his  measuring- 
chain  and  his  graving-tools,  marking  on  those  stone  tables 
of  his  the  deepest  abysses  and  the  muddiest  morasses. 
When  I  kept  swine  with  the  Hegelians,  I  used  to  say,  or 
rather,  I  still  say,  for,  alas  \  I  cannot  suppress  what  I  have 
published  :  '  teach  man  Ms  divine  ;  the  knowledge  of  his 
divinity  will  inspire  him  to  manifest  it.'  Ah  me,  I  see 
now  that  our  divinity  is  like  old  Jupiter's,  who  made  a 
beast  of  himself  as  soon  as  he  saAv  pretty  Europa.  Would 
to  God  I  could  blot  out  all  my  book  on  German  Philosophy  ! 
No,  no,  humanity  is  too  weak  and  too  miserable.  We  must 
have  faith,  we  cannot  live  without  faith,  in  the  old  simple 
things,  the  personal  God,  the  dear  old  Bible,  a  life  beyond 
the  grave." 

Fascinated  by  his  talk,  which  seemed  to  play  like  light- 
ning round  a  clifE  at  midnight,  revealing  not  only  measure- 
less heights  and  soundless  depths,  but  the  greasy  wrap[)ings 
and  refuse  bottles  of  a  picnic,  the  listener  had  an  intuition 

367 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

that  Heine's  mind  did  indeed,  as  he  claimed,  reflect  or 
rather  refract  the  All.  Only  not  sublimely  blurred  as  in 
Spinoza's,  but  specifically  colored  and  infinitely  interre- 
lated, so  that  he  might  pass  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridicu- 
lous with  an  equal  sense  of  its  value  in  the  cosmic  scheme. 
It  was  the  Jewish  artist's  i^roclamation  of  the  Unity,  the 
humorist's  "Hear,  0  Israel." 

"  Will  it  never  end,  this  battle  of  Jew  and  Greek  ?"  he 
said,  half  to  himself,  so  that  she  did  not  know  whether  he 
meant  it  personally  or  generally.  Then,  as  she  tore  her- 
self away,  "  I  fear  I  have  shocked  you,"  he  said  tenderly. 
"But  one  thing  I  have  never  blasphemed — Life.  Is  not 
enjoyment  an  implicit  prayer,  a  latent  grace  ?  After  all, 
God  is  our  Father,  not  our  drill-master.  He  is  not  so  dull 
and  solemn  as  the  parsons  make  out.  He  made  the  kitten 
to  chase  its  tail  and  my  Nonotte  to  laugh  and  dance.  Come 
again,  dear  child,  for  my  friends  have  grown  used  to  my 
dying,  and  expect  me  to  die  for  ever — an  inverted  im- 
mortality. But  one  day  they  will  find  the  puppet-show 
shut  up  and  the  jester  packed  in  his  box.  Good-bye.  God 
bless  you,  little  Lucy,  God  bless  you." 

The  puppet-show  was  shut  up  sooner  than  he  expected  ; 
but  the  jester  had  kept  his  most  wonderful  inof  for  the 
last. 

"  Dieit  me  2Jcirdo7inera,"  he  said.     "  C'est  son  metier.'* 


THE   PEOPLE'S   SAVIOUR 


"Der  Balm,  der  kuhnen,  folgen  wir, 
Die  uns  gefilhrt  Lassalle." 

Such  is  the  Marseillaise  the  Social  Democrats  of  Ger- 
nany  sing,  as  they  troop  out  when  the  police  break  up 
;heir  meetings. 

This  Lassalle,  whose  bold  lead  they  profess  to  follow, 
ies  at  rest  in  the  Jewish  cemetery  of  his  native  Breslan 
inder  the  simple  epitaph  "Thinker  and  Fighter,"  and  at 
lis  death  the  extraordinary  popular  manifestations  seemed 
:o  inaugurate  the  cult  of  a  modern  Messiah — the  Saviour 
)f  the  People. 

II 

But  no  man  is  a  hero  to  his  valet  or  his  relatives,  and 
Dn  the  spring  morning  when  Lassalle  stood  at  the  parting 
jf  the  ways — where  the  Thinker's  path  debouched  on  the 
Fighter's — his  brother-in-law  from  Prague,  being  in  Berlin 
3n  business,  took  the  opportunity  of  remonstrating. 

"  I  can't  understand  what  you  mean  by  such  produc- 
tions," he  cried,  excitedly  Avaving  a  couple  of  pamphlets. 

"  That  is  not  my  fault,  my  dear  Friedland,"  said  Lassalle 

2  A  369 


DREAM EKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

suavely.     '"'It  takes  some  brain  to  follow  even  what  I  have 
put  so  clearly.     What  have  you  there  ?"  ■ 

*'The  lecture  to  the  artisans,  for  which  you  have  to  go 
to  gaol  for  four  months,"  said  the  outraged  ornament  of 
Prague  society,  which  he  illumined  as  well  as  adorned, 
having,  in  fact,  the  town's  gas-contract. 

"  Not  so  fast.  There  is  my  appeal  yet  before  the  Kammer- 
gericht.  And  take  care  that  you  are  not  in  gaol  first ;  that 
pamphlet  is  either  one  of  the  suppressed  editions,  or  has 
been  smuggled  in  from  Ziirich,  a  proof  in  itself  of  that 
negative  concept  of  the  State  which  the  pamphlet  aims  at 
destroying.  Your  State  is  a  mere  night-watchman — it  pro- 
tects the  citizen  but  it  does  nothing  to  form  him.  It  keeps 
off  ideas,  but  it  has  none  of  its  own.  But  the  State,  as 
friend  Boeckh  puts  it,  should  be  the  institution  in  which 
the  whole  virtue  of  mankind  realizes  itself.  It  should  sum 
up  human  experience  and  wisdom,  and  fashion  its  members 
in  accordance  therewith.  What  is  history  but  the  story  of 
man's  struggle  with  nature  ?  And  what  is  a  State  but  the  so- 
cialization of  this  struggle, the  stronger  helping  the  weaker  T' 

"Nonsense  !     Why  should  we  help  the  lower  classes  ?" 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Lassalle,  "it  is  they  who  help  us. 
We  are  the  weaker,  they  are  the  stronger.  That  is  the 
point  of  the  other  pamphlet  you  have  there,  explaining 
what  is  a  Constitution." 

"  Don't  try  your  legal  quibbles  on  me." 

"Legal  (juibbles  !  Why  the  very  point  of  my  pamphlet 
is  to  ignore  verbal  definitions.  A  Constitution  is  what 
constitutes  it,  and  the  working-class  being  nine-tenths  of 
the  population  must  be  nine-tenths  of  the  German  Consti- 
tution." 

"Then  it's  true  what  they  say,  that  you  wish  to  lead  a 
Revolution  !"  exclaimed  Friedland,  raising  his  coarse  glit- 
tering hands  in  horror. 

870 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUE 

''  Follow  a  Revolution,  you  mean,"  said  Lassalle.  "  Here 
again  I  do  away  with  mere  words.  Real  Revolutions  make 
themselves,  and  we  only  become  conscious  of  them.  The 
introduction  of  machinery  was  a  greater  Revolution  than 
the  French,  which,  since  it  did  not  express  ideals  that  were 
really  present  among  the  masses,  was  bound  to  be  followed 
by  the  old  thing  over  again.  Indeed,  sometimes,  as  I 
showed  in  Franz  von  Sickingen  (my  drama  of  the  sixteenth- 
century  war  of  the  Peasants),  a  Revolution  may  even  be 
reactionary,  an  attempt  to  re-establish  an  order  of  things 
that  has  hopelessly  passed  away.  Hence  it  is  your  senti- 
ments that  are  revolutionary." 

Friedland's  face  had  the  angry  helplessness  of  a  witness 
in  the  hands  of  a  clever  lawyer.  "A  pretty  socialist  rjou 
are  !"  he  broke  out,  as  his  arm  swept  with  an  auctioneer's 
gesture  over  the  luxurious  villa  in  the  Bellevuestrasse. 
"  Why  don't  you  call  in  the  first  sAveep  from  the  street 
and  pour  him  out  your  champagne  ?" 

"  My  dear  Friedland  !  Delighted.  Help  yourself,"  said 
Lassalle  imperturbably. 

The  Prague  dignitary  purpled. 

"  You  call  your  sister's  husband  a  sweep  !" 

"Forgive  me.     I  should  have  said  'gas-fitter.'" 

"  And  Avho  are  you  ?"  shrieked  Friedland  ;  "  you  gaol- 
bird !" 

"The  honor  of  going  to  gaol  for  truth  and  justice  will 
never  be  yours,  my  dear  brother-in-law.^' 

Although  he  was  scarcely  taller  than  the  gross-paunched 
parvenu  who  had  married  his  only  sister,  his  slim  form 
seemed  to  tower  over  him  in  easy  elegance.  An  aristo- 
cratic insolence  and  intelligence  radiated  from  the  hand- 
some face  that  so  many  women  had  found  irresistible,  unit- 
ing, as  it  did,  three  universal  types  of  beauty — the  Jewish, 
the  ancieiit  Greek,  and  the  Germanic.     The  Orient  gave 

371 


DEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

complexion  and  fire,  the  nose  was  Greek,  tlie  shape  of  the 
liead  not  unlike  Goethe's.  The  spirit  of  the  fighter  who 
knows  not  fear  flashed  from  his  sombre  blue  eyes.  The 
room  itself — Ljissalle's  cabinet — seemed  in  its  simple  lux- 
uriousness  to  give  point  at  once  to  the  difference  between 
the  two  men  and  to  the  parvenu's  taunt.  It  was  of  moder- 
ate size,  with  a  large  Avork-table  thickly  littered  with  pa- 
pers, and  a  comfortable  writing-chair,  on  the  back  of  Avhich 
Lassalle's  white  nervous  hand  rested  carelessly.  The  walls 
were  a  mass  of  book-cases,  gleaming  with  calf  and  morocco, 
and  crammed  Avith  the  literature  of  many  ages  and  races. 
Precious  folios  denoted  the  book-lover,  ancient  papyri  the 
antiquarian.  It  was  the  library  of  a  seeker  after  the  ency- 
clopaedic culture  of  the  Germany  of  his  day.  The  one 
lighter  touch  in  the  room  was  a  small  portrait  of  a  young 
Avoman  of  rare  beauty  and  nobility.  But  this  sober  cabi- 
net gave  on  a  Turkish  room — a  divan  covered  with  rich 
Oriental  satins,  inlaid  Avhatnots,  stools,  dainty  tables,  all 
laden  Avith  costly  narghiles,  chibouques,  and  opium-pipes 
Avitli  enormous  amber  tij^s,  Damascus  daggers,  tiles,  and 
other  curios  brought  back  by  him  from  the  East — and  be- 
hind this  room  one  caught  sight  of  a  little  av inter-garden 
full  of  beautiful  plants. 

"  Truth  and  justice  !"  repeated  Friedland  angrily.  "Fid-1 
dlesticks  !  A  crazy  desire  for  notoriety.  That's  the  truth.] 
And  as  for  justice — Avell,  that  Avas  what  Avas  meted  out  to] 
you." 

"  Prussian  justice  !"  Lassalle's  hand  rose  dramaticallyl 
lieavenAvards.  His  brow  grcAV  black  and  his  voice  had  the] 
vibration  of  the  great  orator  or  the  great  actor.  *'  When  Ij 
think  of  this  daily  judicial  murder  of  ten  long  years  that 
passed  through,  then  Avaves  of  blood  seem  to  trenible  be- 
fore my  eyes,  and  it  seems  as  if  a  sea  of  blood  Avould  chokej 
me.     Galley-slaves  appear  to  me  very  honorable  persons 

372 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

compared  with  our  judges.     As  for  our  so-called  Liberal 
press,  it  is  a  harlot  masquerading  as  the  goddess  of  liberty." 

"  And  what  are  you  masquerading  as  ?"  retorted  Fried- 
land.  "  If  you  were  really  in  earnest,  you  would  share  all 
your  fine  things  with  dirty  working-men,  and  become  one 
of  them,  instead  of  going  down  to  their  meetings  in  patent- 
leather  boots." 

"  No,  my  dear  man,  it  is  precisely  to  show  the  dirty 
working-man  what  he  has  missed  that  I  exhibit  to  him  my 
patent-leather  boots.  Humility,  contentment,  may  be  a 
Christian  virtue,  but  in  economics  'tis  a  deadly  sin.  What  is 
the  greatest  misfortune  for  a  people  ?  To  have  no  wants,  to 
belazzaroni  spraAvling  in  the  sun.  But  to  have  the  greatest 
number  of  needs,  and  to  satisfy  them  honestly,  is  the  vir- 
tue of  to-day,  of  the  era  of  political  economy.  I  have  al- 
ways been  careful  about  my  clothes,  because  it  is  our  duty 
to  give  pleasure  to  other  people.  If  I  went  down  to  my 
working-men  in  a  dirty  shirt,  they  would  be  the  first  to  cry 
out  against  my  contempt  for  them.  And  as  for  becoming 
a  working-man,  I  choose  to  be  a  working-man  in  that  sphere 
in  which  I  can  do  most  good,  and  I  keep  my  income  in  or- 
der to  do  it.     At  least  it  was  honorably  earned." 

"  Honorably  earned  !"  sneered  Friedland.  "  That  is  the 
first  time  I  have  heard  it  described  thus."  And  he  looked 
meaningly  at  the  beautiful  portrait. 

"  I  am  quite  aware  you  have  not  the  privilege  of  con- 
versing with  my  friends,"  retorted  Lassalle,  losing  his 
temper  for  the  first  time.  "  I  know  I  am  kept  by  my  mis- 
tress, the  Countess  Hatzfeldt  ;  that  ail  the  long  years,  all 
the  best  years  of  my  life,  I  chivalrously  devoted  to  cham- 
pioning an  oppressed  woman  count  for  nothing,  and  that 
it  is  dishonorable  for  me  to  accept  a  small  commission  on 
the  enormous  estates  I  won  back  for  her  from  her  brutal 
husband !     "Why,   my    mere   fees   as  lawyer   would   have 

373 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

come  to  double.  But  pah  !  why  do  I  talk  with  you  ?"  He 
began  to  pace  the  room.  "  The  fact  that  I  have  such  a 
delightful  home  to  exchange  for  gaol  is  just  the  thing 
that  should  make  you  believe  in  my  sincerit}'.  No,  my 
respected  brother-in-law" — and  he  made  a  sudden  theatri- 
■  cal  gesture,  and  his  voice  leapt  to  a  roar, —  "understand  I 
will  carry  on  my  life-mission  as  I  choose,  and  never — never 
to  satisfy  every  fool  will  I  carry  the  ass."  His  voice  sank. 
"You  know  the  fable." 

"  Your  mission  I  The  Public  Prosecutor  was  right  in 
saying  it  was  to  excite  the  non-possessing  classes  to  hatred 
and  contempt  of  the  possessing  class." 

"He  was.  I  live  but  to  point  out  to  the  working-man 
how  he  is  exploited  by  capitalists  like  you." 

"  And  ruin  your  own  sister  !" 

"Ha,  ha!  So  you're  afraid  I  shall  succeed.  Good  !' 
His  blue  eyes  blazed.  He  stood  still,  an  image  of  trium- 
phant AVill. 

"  You  will  succeed  only  in  disgracing  your  relatives,' 
said  Friedland  sullenly. 

His  brother-in-law  broke  into  Homeric  laughter.  "  Ho, 
ho,"  he  cried.  "  Now  I  see.  You  are  afraid  that  I'll  come 
to  Prague,  that  I'll  visit  you  and  cry  out  to  your  fashion- 
able circle  :  *  I,  Ferdinand  Lassalle,  the  pernicious  dema- 
gogue of  all  your  journals,  Governmental  and  Progressive 
alike,  the  thief  of  the  casket-trial,  the  Jew -traitor,  the 
gaol-bird,  I  am  the  brother-in-law  of  your  host.'  And  so 
you've  rushed  to  Berlin  to  break  off  with  me.  Ho,  ho, 
ho  !" 

Friedland  gave  him  a  black  look  and  rushed  from  the 
room.  Lassalle  laughed  on,  scarcely  noticing  his  depart- 
ure. His  brain  was  busy  witli  that  comical  scene,  the  re- 
call of  which  had  put  the  enemy  to  flight.  On  his  migra- 
tion from  Berlin  to  Prague,  when  he  got  the  gas-contract, 

374 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

Friedland,  by  a  profuse  display  of  his  hospitality,  and  a 
careful  concealment  of  his  Jewisli  birth,  wormed  his  Avay 
among  families  of  birth  and  jDOsition,  and  finally  into  the 
higher  governmental  circles.  One  day,  when  he  was  on 
the  eve  of  dining  the  elite  of  Prague,  Lassalle's  old  father 
turned  up  accidentally  on  a  visit  to  his  daughter  and  son- 
in-law.  Each  in  turn  besought  him  hurriedly  not  to  let 
slip  that  they  were  Jews.  The  old  man  was  annoyed,  but 
made  no  reply.  When  ail  the  guests  were  seated,  old  Las- 
salle  rose  to  speak,  and  when  silence  fell,  he  asked  if  they 
knew  they  were  at  a  Jew's  table.  "  I  hold  it  my  duty  to 
inform  you,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  a  Jcav,  that  my  daughter 
is  a  Jewess,  and  my  son-in-law  a  Jew.  I  will  not  purchase 
by  deceit  the  honor  of  dining  with  you."  The  well-bred 
guests  cheered  the  old  fellow,  but  the  host  was  ghastly  with 
confusion,  and  never  forgave  him. 


Ill 

But  Lassalle's  laughter  soon  ceased.  Another  recollec- 
tion stabbed  him  to  silence.  The  old  man  was  dead — that 
beautiful,  cheerful  old  man.  Never  more  would  his  blue 
eyes  gaze  in  proud  tenderness  on  his  darling  brilliant  boy. 
But  a  few  months  ago  and  he  had  seemed  the  very  type  of 
ruddy  old  age.  How  tenderly  he  had  watched  over  his  poor 
broken-down  old  wife,  supporting  her  as  she  walked,  cut- 
ting up  her  food  as  she  ate,  and  filling  her  eyes  with  the 
love-light,  despite  all  her  pain  and  weakness.  And  now  this 
poor,  deaf,  shrivelled  little  mother,  had  to  totter  on  alone. 
"  Father,  Avhat  have  you  to  do  to-day?"  he  remembered 
asking  him  once.  "  Only  to  love  you,  my  child,"  the  old 
man  had  answered  cheerily,  laying  his  hand  on  his  son's 
shoulder. 

to 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Yes,  he  had  indeed  loved  him.  What  long  patience  from 
his  childhood  upwards  ;  patience  Avith  the  froward  arrogant 
boy,  a  law  to  himself  even  in  forging  his  parents'  names 
to  his  school -notes,  and  meditating  suicide  because  his 
father  had  beaten  him  for  demanding  more  elegant  clothes; 
patience  with  the  emotional  volcanic  youth  to  whose  gran- 
diose soul  a  synod  of  professors  reprimanding  him  seemed 
unclean  crows  and  ravens  pecking  at  a  fallen  eagle  that 
had  only  to  raise  quivering  wings  to  fly  towards  the  sun  ; 
patience  with  his  refusal  to  enter  a  commercial  career,  and 
carry  on  the  prosperous  silk  business  ;  patience  even  with 
his  refusal  to  study  law  and  medicine.  "  But  what  then 
do  you  wish  to  study,  my  boy  ?  At  sixteen  one  must  choose 
decisively." 

"  The  vastest  study  in  the  world,  that  which  is  most 
closely  bound  up  with  the  most  sacred  interests  of  humanity 
—History." 

''But  what  Avill  you  live  on,  since,  as  a  Jew,  you  can't 
get  any  post  or  professorship  in  Prussia  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  shall  live  somehow." 

*'But  why  won't  you  study  medicine  or  law  ?" 

"  Doctors,  lawyers,  and  even  savants,  make  a  merchan- 
dise of  their  knowledge.  I  will  have  nothing  of  the  Jew. 
I  will  study  for  the  sake  of  knowledge  and  action." 

"  Do  you  think  you  are  a  poet  ?" 

"No,  I  wish  to  devote  myself  to  public  affairs.  The 
time  approaches  Avhcn  the  most  sacred  ends  of  humanity 
must  be  fought  for.  Till  the  end  of  the  last  century  the 
world  Avas  held  in  the  bondage  of  the  stupidest  superstition. 
Then  rose,  at  the  mighty  appeal  of  intellect,  a  material 
force  which  blew  the  old  order  into  bloody  fragments. 
Intellectually  this  revolt  has  gone  on  ever  since.  In  every 
nation  men  have  arisen  who  have  fought  by  the  Word,  and 
fallen  or  conquered.     Borne  says  that  no  European  sover- 

370 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

eign  is  blind  enough  to  believe  his  grandson  will  have  a 
throne  to  sit  on.  I  wish  I  could  believe  so.  For  my  part, 
father,  I  feel  that  the  era  of  force  must  come  again,  for 
these  folk  on  the  thrones  will  not  have  it  otherwise.  But 
for  the  moment  it  is  ours  not  to  make  the  peoples  revolt, 
but  to  enlighten  and  raise  them  up." 

"What  you  say  may  not  be  altogether  untrue,  but  why 
should  you  be  a  martyr, — you,  our  hope,  our  stay  ?  Spare 
us.  One  human  being  can  change  nothing  in  the  order  of 
the  world.  Let  those  fight  who  have  no  parents'  hearts  to 
break." 

"  Yes,  but  if  every  one  talked  like  that — !  Why  offer 
myself  as  a  martyr  ?  Because  God  has  put  in  my  breast 
a  voice  which  calls  me  to  the  struggle,  has  given  me  the 
strength  that  makes  fighters.  Because  I  can  fight  and 
suffer  for  a  noble  cause.  Because  I  will  not  disappoint  the 
confidence  of  God,  who  has  given  me  this  strength  for 
His  definite  purpose.  In  short,  because  I  cannot  do  other- 
wise." 

Yes,  looking  back,  he  saw  he  could  not  have  done  other- 
wise, though  for  that  old  voice  of  God  in  his  heart  he  now 
substituted  mentally  the  Hegelian  concept  of  the  Idea 
trying  to  realize  itself  through  him,  Shakespeare's  "  pro- 
phetic soul  of  the  wide  world  dreaming  on  things  to  come.'* 
The  Will  of  God  was  the  Will  of  the  Time-spirit,  and  what 
was  True  for  the  age  was  whatever  its  greatest  spirits  could 
demonstrate  to  it  by  reason  and  history.  The  world  had 
had  enough  of  merely  dithyrambic  prophets,  it  was  for  the 
Modern  Prophet  to  heat  with  his  fire  the  cannon-balls  of 
logic  and  science ;  he  must  be  a  thinker  among  prophets 
and  a  prophet  among  thinkers.  Those  he  could  not  in- 
spire through  emotion  must  be  led  through  reason.  There 
must  be  not  one  weak  link  in  his  close-meshed  chain  of 
propositions.     And  who  could  doubt  that  what  the  Time- 

377 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

spirit  was  working  towards  among  the  Germans  —  the 
Chosen  People  in  tiie  eternal  plan  of  the  universe  for  this 
new  step  in  human  evolution — was  the  foundation  of  a 
true  Kingdom  of  right,  a  Kingdom  of  freedom  and  equality, 
a  State  which  should  stand  for  justice  on  earth,  and  ma- 
terial and  spiritual  blessedness  for  all  ?  But  his  father 
had  complained  not  unjustly.  Why  should  he  have  been 
chosen  for  the  Man — the  Martyr — through  whom  the  Idea 
sought  self-realization  ?  It  was  a  terrible  fate  to  be  Moses, 
to  be  Prometheus.  No  doubt  that  image  of  himself  he 
read  in  the  faces  of  his  friends,  and  in  the  loving  eyes  of 
the  Countess  Ilatzfeldt — that  glorious  wonder-youth  gifted 
equally  with  genius  and  beauty  —  must  seem  enviable 
enough,  yet  to  his  own  heart  how  chill  was  this  lonely 
greatness.  And  youth  itself  was  passing  —  was  almost 
gone. 

IV 

But  he  shook  off  this  rare  sombre  mood,  and  awoke  to 
the  full  consciousness  that  Friedland  was  fled.  AVell, 
better  so.  The  stupid  fool  would  come  back  soon  enough, 
and  to-day,  with  Prince  Puckler-Muskau,  Baron  Korff, 
General  de  Pfuel,  and  von  Billow  the  pianist,  coming  to 
lunch,  and  perhaps  Wagner,  if  he  could  finish  his  rehearsal 
of  "Lohengrin"  in  time,  he  was  not  sorry  to  see  his  table 
relieved  of  the  dull  pomposity  and  brilliant  watch-chain 
of  the  pillar  of  Prague  society.  How  mean  to  hide  one's 
Judaism  !  What  a  burden  to  belong  to  such  a  race,  de- 
generate sons  of  a  great  but  long-vanished  past,  unable  to 
slough  the  slave  traits  engendered  by  centuries  of  slavery  ! 
How  he  had  yearned  as  a  boy  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  the 
nations,  even  as  he  himself  had  shaken  off  the  yoke  of  the 
Law  of  Moses.     Yes,  the  scaffold  itself  would  have  been 

378 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

welcome^  could  he  but  have  made  the  Jews  a  respected 
people.  How  the  persecution  of  the  Jews  of  Damascus 
had  kindled  the  lad  of  fifteen  !  A  people  that  bore  such 
things  was  hideous.  Let  them  suffer  or  take  vengeance. 
Even  the  Christians  marvelled  at  their  sluggish  blood,  that 
they  did  not  prefer  swift  death  on  the  battle-field  to  the  long 
torture.  Was  the  oppression  against  which  the  Swiss  had 
rebelled  one  whit  greater  ?  Cowardly  people  !  It  merited 
no  better  lot.  And  he  recalled  how,  when  the  ridiculous 
story  that  the  Jews  make  use  of  Christian  blood  cropped 
up  again  at  Ehodes  and  Lemnos,  he  had  written  in  his 
diary  that  the  universal  accusation  was  a  proof  that  the 
time  was  nigh  when  the  Jews  in  very  sooth  would  help 
themselves  with  Christian  blood.  Aide-toi,  le  del  t'aidera. 
And  ever  in  his  boyish  imagination  he  had  seen  himself 
at  the  head  of  an  armed  nation,  delivering  it  from  bond- 
age, and  reigning  over  a  free  people.  But  these  dreams 
had  passed  with  childhood.  He  had  found  a  greater, 
grander  cause,  that  of  the  oppressed  German  people, 
ground  down  by  capitalists  and  the  Iron  Law  of  Wages,  and 
all  that  his  Judaism  had  brought  him  was  a  prejudice 
the  more  against  him,  a  cheap  cry  of  Jew-demagogue,  to 
hamper  his  larger  fight  for  humanity.  And  yet  Avas  it  not 
strange?  —  they  were  all  Jews,  his  friends  and  inspirers ; 
Heine  and  Borne  in  his  youth,  and  now  in  his  manhood, 
Karl  Marx.  Was  it  perhaps  their  sense  of  the  great  Ghetto 
tragedy  that  had  quickened  their  indignation  against  all 
wrong  ? 

Well,  human  injustice  was  approaching  its  term  at  last. 
The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  on  earth  was  beginning  to  an- 
nounce itself  by  signs  and  portents.  The  religion  of  the 
future  was  dawning  —  the  Church  of  the  People.  *' 0 
fatlier,  father  \"  he  cried,  "if  you  could  have  lived  to  see 
my  triumph  V 

379 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 


Theee  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

His  man  appeared,  but,  instead  of  announcing  the  Count- 
ess Hatzfeldt,  as  Lassalle's  face  expected,  he  tendered  a 
letter. 

Lassalle's  face  changed  yet  again,  and  the  thought  of  the 
Countess  died  out  of  it  as  he  caught  sight  of  the  graceful 
writing  of  Sophie  de  Solutzew.  What  memories  it  brought 
back  of  the  first  real  passion  of  his  life,  when,  whirled  off 
his  feet  by  an  unsuspected  current,  enchanted  yet  aston- 
ished to  be  no  longer  the  easy  conqueror  throwing  crumbs 
of  love  to  i^oor  fluttering  woman,  he  had  asked  the  Russian 
girl  to  share  his  strife  and  triumphs.  That  he  should  Avant 
to  marry  her  had  been  as  amazing  to  him  as  her  refusal. 
What  talks  they  had  had  in  this  very  room,  Avhen  she 
passed  through  Berlin  with  her  ailing  father  !  How  he 
had  suffered  from  the  delay  of  her  decision,  foreseen,  yet 
none  the  less  paralyzing  when  it  came.  And  yet  no,  not 
paralyzing  ;  he  could  not  but  recognize  that  the  shock  had 
in  reality  been  a  stimulation.  It  was  in  the  reaction  against 
his  misery,  in  the  subtle  pleasure  of  a  temptation  cscaj^ed 
despite  himself,  and  of  regained  freedom  to  work  for  his 
great  ideals,  that  he  had  leapt  for  the  first  time  into  politi- 
cal agitatio7i.  The  episode  had  made  him  reconsider,  like 
a  great  sickness  or  a  bereavement.  It  had  shown  him 
that  life  was  slipping,  that  afternoon  was  coming,  that 
in  a  few  more  years  he  would  be  forty,  that  the  ''Won- 
der -  Child,"  as  Humboldt  had  styled  him,  was  grown  to 
mature  man,  and  that  all  the  vent  he  had  as  yet  found  for 
his  groat  gifts  was  a  series  of  scandalous  law-suits  and  an 
esoteric  volume  of  the  philosophy  of  lleraclitus  tiic  Dark. 
And  now,  coming  to  him  in  the  midst  of  his  great  spurt,  this 

3S0 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

letter  from  the  quieter  world  of  three  years  ago — though 
he  himself  had  i^rovoked  it  —  seemed  almost  of  dream- 
land. Its  unexpected  warmth  kindled  in  him  something 
of  the  old  glow.  Brussels  !  She  was  in  western  Europe 
again,  then.  Yes,  she  still  possessed  the  Heine  letter  he 
required  ;  only  it  was  in  her  father's  possession,  and  she 
had  written  to  him  to  Russia  to  send  it  on.  Her  silence 
had  been  due  to  pique  at  the  condition  Lassalle  had  at-' 
tached  to  acceptance  of  the  mere  friendship  she  offered 
him,  to  Avit,  that,  like  all  his  friends,  she  must  write  him 
two  letters  to  his  one.  "  Inconsiderate  little  creature  !"  he 
thought,  smiling  but  half  resentful.  But,  though  she  had 
now  only  that  interest  for  him  which  the  woman  who  has 
refused  one  never  quite  loses,  she  stirred  again  his  sense  of 
the  foolish  emptiness  of  loveless  life.  His  brilliant  reputa- 
tion as  scholar  and  orator  and  potential  leader  of  men ;  his 
personal  fascination,  Avoven  of  beauty,  Avit,  elegance,  and  a 
halo  of  conquest,  that  made  him  the  lion  of  every  social 
gathering,  and  his  little  suppers  to  celebrities  the  talk  of 
Berlin— Avhat  a  holloAv  farce  it  all  Avas  !  And  his  thoughts 
flew  not  to  Sophie  but  to  the  new  radiance  that  had  flitted 
across  his  life.  He  called  up  the  fading  image  of  the  brill- 
iant Helene  von  Donniges  Avhom  he  had  met  a  year  before 
at  the  Hirsemenzels.  He  lived  again  through  that  Avonder- 
ful  evening,  that  almost  Southern  episode  of  mutual  love  at 
first  sight. 

He  saAV  himself  holding  the  salon  rapt  Avith  his  Avonder- 
ful  conversation.  A  silvery  voice  says  suddenly,  "  No,  I 
don't  agree  Avith  you."  He  turns  his  head  in  astonishment. 
0  the  2nquante,  golden -haired  beauty,  adorably  Avhite  and 
subtle,  the  dazzling  shoulders,  the  coquettish  play  of  the 
lonjnette,  the  Avit,  the  daring,  the  diablerie.  "  So  it's  a  no,  a 
contradiction,  the  first  word  I  hear  of  yours.  So  this  is  you. 
Yes,  yes,  it  is  even  thus  I  pictured  you."  She  is  rising  to  beg 

381 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  hostess  to  introduce  them,  but  he  places  his  hand  gently 
on  her  arm.  "  Why  ?  AVe  know  each  other.  You  know 
who  I  am,  and  you  are  Brunehild,  Adrienne  Cardoville  of 
the  Wandering  Jew,  the  gold  chestnut  hair  that  Captain 
Korff  has  told  me  of,  in  a  word — Helene  I"  The  whole  salon 
regards  them,  but  what  are  the  others  but  the  due  audience 
to  this  splendid  couple  taking  the  centre  of  the  stage  by 
the  right  divine  of  a  love  too  great  for  drawing-room  con- 
ventions, calling  almost  for  orchestral  accompaniment  by 
friend  Wagner  !  He  talks  no  more  save  to  her,  he  sups  at 
her  side,  he  is  in  boyish  ecstasies  over  her  taste  in  wines. 
And  when,  at  four  in  the  morning,  he  throws  her  mantle 
over  her  shoulders  and  carries  her  down  the  three  flights  of  I 
stairs  to  her  carriage,  even  her  prudish  cousinly  chaperon 
seems  to  accept  this  as  but  the  natural  manner  in  which  the  i 
hero  takes  possession  of  his  heaven-born  bride. 

80  rousing  to  his  sleeping  passion  was  liis  sudden  aban- 
donment to  this  old  memory,  that  he  now  went  to  a  drawer] 
and  rummaged  for  her  photograph.     After  the  Baron,  herj 
father,  that  ultra-respectable  Bavarian  diplomatist,  had  re- 
fused to  hear  her  speak  of  the  Jew -demagogue,  Lassallel 
had  asked  her  to  send  him  her  portrait,  as  he  wished  to 
build  a  house  adorned  with  frescoes,  and  the  artist  was  to 
seek  in  her  the  inspiration  of  his  Brunehild.     In  the  rush] 
of  his  life,  project  and  photograph  had  been  alike  neglect- 
ed.    He  had  let  her  go  without  much  effort — in  a  way  hel 
still  considered  her  liis,  since  the  opposition  had  not  comej 
from  her.      lint  had   he  been  wise  to  allow  this  driftiugj 
apart  ?     Great  political  events  miglit  be  indeed  maturing, 
but  oh,  how  slowly,  and  there  was  always  that  standing! 
danger  of  her  "Moorish  Prince" — the  young  Wallachianj 
student,  Janko  von  Racowitza,  tlie  "dragon  who  guardai 
my  treasure,"  as  he  had  once  called  him,  and  who,  though  1 
betrothed  to  her,  was  the  slave  of  her  caprices,  ready  to] 

383 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

sacrifice  himself  if  she  loved  another  better,  a  gentle,  pliant 
creature  Lassalle  could  scarcely  understand,  especially  con- 
sidering his  princely  blood. 

When  he  at  last  came  upon  the  photograph,  he  remem- 
bered with  a  thrill  that  her  birthday  was  at  hand.  She 
would  be  of  age  in  a  day  or  two,  no  longer  the  puppet  of 
her  father's  will. 

VI 

When  a  little  later  the  Countess  Hatzfeldt  was  an- 
nounced, he  had  forgotten  he  Avas  expecting  her.  lie 
slipped  the  photograph  back  among  the  papers,  and  moved 
forward  hurriedly  to  greet  her. 

Her  face  was  the  face  of  the  beautiful  portrait  on  the 
wall,  grown  twice  as  old,  but  with  the  lines  of  beauty  still 
clear  under  the  unnecessary  touches  of  rouge,  so  that  some- 
times, despite  her  frosted  hair,  one  could  imagine  her  life 
at  its  spring-tide.  This  was  especially  so  when  the  sun- 
shine leapt  into  her  eyes.  But,  at  her  oldest,  there  re- 
mained to  her  the  dignity  of  the  Princess  born,  the  charm 
of  the  woman  of  virile  intellect  and  vast  social  expe- 
rience. 

"  Something  is  troubling  you,"  she  said. 

He  smiled  reassuringly.  "  My  brother-in-law  popped  in 
from  Prague.     He  read  me  a  sermon." 

"  That  would  not  trouble  you,  Ferdinand." 

Lassalle  was  silent. 

"  You  have  heard  again  from  that  Sophie  de  Solutzew  !" 

"  Divinatrix  !  After  three  years  I  You  are  wonderful  as 
ever.  Countess." 

The  compliment  did  not  lighten  her  features.  They 
looked  haggard,  almost  their  real  age. 

"  It  is  not  the  moment  for  petticoats — with  the  chance 

383 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

of  your  life  before  you  and  months  of  imprisonment  hang- 
ing over  your  head." 

"  Oh,  I  am  certain  my  appeal  will  get  me  off  with  a  fine 
at  most.  You  must  remember.  Countess,  that  only  once 
in  my  life,  despite  incessant  snares,  have  the  fowlers  really 
caged  me.  And  even  then  I  was  let  out  every  time  I  had 
to  plead  in  one  of  your  cases.  It  was  quite  illegal,"  and 
he  laughed  at  the  recollection  of  the  many  miracles  his 
eloquence,  now  insinuating,  now  menacing,  had  achieved. 

"  Yes,  you  are  marvellous." 

"  I  marvel  at  myself." 

"  Let  me  see  your  new  '  Open  Sesame.'     Is  it  ready  ?" 

"No,  no,  Sophie,"  he  said  banteringly.  '*  You  knov7 
you  mean  you  want  to  see  your  namesake's  letter." 

"  That  is  not  my  concern." 

"  0  Countess  !"     He  tendered  the  letter. 

"Hum,"  she  said,  casting  a  raj)id  eye  over  it.  "Then 
you  wrote  her  first." 

"  Only  because  the  letter  was  wanted  for  the  new  edition 
of  Heine,  and  I  had  no  copy  of  it." 

"  But  I  have  a  copy." 

"You?     Where?" 

"  In  my  heart,  moii  cJicr  enfant.  Why  should  I  not  re- 
member the  great  poet's  words  ?  '  Dearest  brother-in-arms 
— Never  have  I  found  in  any  other  but  you  so  much  pas- 
sion united  with  so  much  clairvoyance  in  action.  You 
have  truly  the  divine  right  of  autocracy.  I  only  feel  a  hum- 
ble fly.  .  .  .'"    She  i)aused  and  smiled  at  him.    "You  see. 

"  Perfect,"  cried  Lassalle,  who  had  been  listening  com- 
placently. ''But  it's  not  that  letter.  The  letter  of  intro- 
duction he  gave  me  to  Varnhagen  von  Ense  when  I  was  a 
boy  of  twenty — in  the  year  we  met." 

"  How  should  I  not  remember  that  ?  Was  it  not  the 
first  you  showed  me  ?" 

384 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUK 

A  sigh  escaped  her.  In  that  year  when  he  had  won  lier 
love,  she  had  been  just  twice  as  old  iis  he.  Now,  despite 
arithmetic,  she  felt  three  times  his  age. 

'*  I  will  dictate  it  to  you,"  she  went  on  ;  ''and  you  can 
send  it  to  the  publisher  and  be  done  with  it." 

"My  rare  Countess,  my  more  than  mother,"  he  said, 
touched,  "that  you  should  have  carried  all  that  in  your 
dear,  Avise  head." 

"'My  friend,  Herr  Lassalle,  the  bearer  of  this  letter,  is 
a  young  man  of  extraordinary  talent.  To  the  most  pro- 
found erudition  and  the  greatest  insight  and  the  richest 
gifts  of  expression,  he  unites — '  " 

"  Doesn't  it  also  say,  '  that  I  have  ever  met  ?'  " 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  my  head  is  leaving  me.  Put  it  in  after  '  in- 
sight.' '  He  unites  an  energy  of  will  and  an  attitude  for 
action  which  plunge  me  into  astonishment.'" 

"You  see,"  interrupted  Lassalle,  lookiug  up;  "Heine 
saw  at  once  the  difference  between  me  and  Karl  Marx. 
Marx  is,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  a  student,  and  his 
present  address  is  practically  the  British  Museum.  In 
mere  knowledge  I  do  not  pretend  to  superiority.  What 
language,  what  art,  what  science,  is  unknown  to  him  ?  But 
he  has  run  almost  entirely  to  brain.  He  works  out  his 
thoughts  best  in  mathematics  —  the  Spinoza  of  socialism. 
But  fancy  Spinoza  leading  a  people  ;  and  even  Spinoza  had 
more  glow.  When  I  Avent  to  see  him  in  London  in  the 
winter  to  ask  him  to  head  the  movement  with  me,  he  ob- 
jected to  my  phraseology,  dissected  my  battle-cries  in  cold 
blood.  I  preach  socialism  as  a  religion,  the  Church  of  the 
People  —  he  Avon't  even  shout  '  Truth  and  Justice  !'  He 
will  only  prove  you  scientifically  that  the  illusion  of  the 
masses  that  Eight  is  not  done  them  Avill  goad  them  to  ex- 
press their  Might.  And  his  speeches  I  Treatises,  not 
trumpets  I    Once  after  one  of  his  speeches  in  the  prisoner's 

2  b  385 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

box,  a  jaror  shook  hands  ^yith  him,  and  thanked  liim  for 
his  instructive  lecture.  Ha  I  ha  I  ha  I  Take  my  System  of 
Acquired  Rights,  now."  —  Lassalle  was  now  launched  on 
one  of  his  favorite  monologues,  and  the  Countess  at  least 
never  desired  to  interrupt  him. — "There  you  have  learn- 
ing and  logic  that  has  forced  the  most  dry-as-dust  to  hail 
it  as  a  masterpiece  of  Jurisprudence.  But  it  is  enrooted 
in  life,  and  drew  its  sustenance  from  my  actual  practice  in 
fighting  my  dear  Countess's  battles.  As  Heine  goes  on  to 
say,  savoir  and  jwitvoir  are  rarely  united.  Luther  was  a 
man  of  action,  but  his  thought  was  not  the  widest.  Les- 
sing  was  a  man  of  thought,  but  he  died  broken  on  the  wheel 
of  fortune.  It  was  a  combination  of  the  two  I  tried  to 
paint  in  my  Ulrich  von  Hutten — the  Humanist  who  tran- 
scended Luther  and  who  was  the  morning  star  of  the  true 
Reformation.  You  remember  his  Frankfort  student  who, 
having  mistakenly  capped  a  Jew,  could  not  decide  Avhether 
the  sin  was  mortal  or  venial.  But  though  I  put  my  own 
self  into  him,  I  shall  not  be  beaten  like  him."  He  jumped 
to  his  feet  and  threw  down  his  jDen  so  that  it  stood  quiver- 
ing in  the  table.  "  For  surely  it  was  of  me  that  Heine  was 
thinking  when  he  wrote  :  'Yes,  a  third  man  will  come'"' — 
and  Lassalle's accent  became  dramatically  sonorous — "  'and 
he  will  conclude  what  Luther  began,  what  Lessing  contin- 
ued, a  man  of  whom  the  Fatherland  stands  in  such  need. 
The  Third  Liberator.'" 

"The  Third  Liberator,"  passionately  echoed  the  Count- 
ess. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  went  on,  "I've  often  fancied  it  was 
I  who  gave  Heine  the  line  of  thought  he  developed  in  his" 
sketch  of  German  philosophy,  that  our  revolution  will  be 
the  outcome  of  our  Philosophy,  that  in  the  earthquake  will 
be  heard  the  small  still  voice  of  Kant  and  Hegel.  It  is 
what  I  tried  to  say  the  other  day  in  my  address  on  Fichte. 

386 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUK 

It  is  pure  thought  that  will  build  up  the  German  Empire. 
Keality  —  with  its  fragments,  Prussia,  Saxony,  etc. — will 
have  to  remould  itself  after  the  Idea  of  a  unified  German — 
Eepublic.  Why  do  you  smile  ?"  he  broke  off  uneasily,  with 
a  morbid  memory  of  his  audience  drifting  away  into  the 
refreshment  room. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  Heine's  saying  that  we  Germans  are 
a  methodical  nation,  to  take  our  thinking  first  and  our  rev- 
olution second,  because  the  heads  that  have  been  used  for 
thinking  may  be  afterwards  used  for  chopping  off.  15ut  if 
you  chopped  off  heads  first,  like  the  French,  they  could 
not  be  of  much  use  to  philosophy." 

Lassalle  laughed.  '•  1  love  Heine.  He  seemed  my 
soul's  brother.  I  loved  him  from  boyhood,  only  regretting 
he  wasn't  a  republican  like  Borne.  Would  he  could  have 
lived  to  see  the  tritimph  of  his  prediction,  the  old  wild 
Berserker  rage  that  will  arise  among  us  Teutons  when  the 
Talisman  of  the  Cross  breaks  at  last,  as  break  it  must,  and 
the  old  gods  come  to  their  own  again.  A  tooth  for  a 
tooth,  an  eye  for  an  eye.  The  canting  tyrants  shall  bite 
the  dust,  the  false  judges  shall  be  judged." 

"That  is  how  I  like  you  to  talk." 

He  smote  the  table  with  his  fist.  His  own  praises  had 
fired  him,  though  his  marvellous  memory  that  could  hold 
even  the  complete  libretti  of  operas  had  been  little  in 
doubt  as  to  Heine's  phrasing. 

''Yes,  the  holy  alliance  of  Science  and  the  People — those 
opposite  poles  !  They  Avill  crush  betAveen  their  arms  of 
steel  all  that  opposes  the  higher  civilization.  The  State, 
the  immemorial  vestal  fire  of  all  civilization — what  a  good 
phrase  !  I  must  write  that  down  for  my  Kammcrgericht 
speech." 

"And  at  the  same  time  finish  this  Heine  business,  please, 
and  be  done  with  that  impertinent  demoiselle.    AVhat  !  she 

387 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

must  have  letter  for  letter !  Of  course  it's  a  blessing  she 
ceased  to  corresi^ond  with  you.  But  all  the  same,  just  see 
what  these  creatures  are.  No  sympathy  with  the  wear  and 
tear  of  your  life.  All  petty  egotisms  and  vanities  !  What 
do  they  care  about  your  world  -  reaching  purposes  ?  Yes, 
they'll  sit  at  your  feet,  but  their  own  enjoyment  or  mental 
development  is  all  they're  thinking  of.  These  Russian 
girls  are  the  most  dreadful.  I  know  hundreds  like  your 
Sophie.  They're  a  typical  development  of  our  new-fangled 
age.  They  even  take  nominal  husbands,  merely  to  eman- 
cipate themselves  from  the  parental  roof.  I  wonder  she 
didn't  play  you  that  trick.  And  now  she's  older  and  has 
got  over  her  pique,  she  sees  Avhat  she  has  lost.  But  you 
will  not  be  drawn  in  again  ?" 

*'  No  ;  yon  may  rely  on  that,"  said  Lassalle. 

Her  face  became  almost  young. 

"  You  are  so  ignorant  of  woman,  mon  clier  enfant,"  she 
said,  smoothing  his  brown  curly  hair;  ''you  are  really  an 
infant,  without  judgment  or  reason  where  they  are  con- 
cerned." 

"  And  you  are  so  ignorant  of  man,"  thought  Lassalle, 
for  his  repudiation  of  the  Russian  girl  had  brought  up 
vividly  the  vision  of  his  enchanting  Brunehild.  Did  tin? 
Countess  then  think  that  a  man  could  feed  for  ever  on 
memories  ?  True,  she  had  gracefully  declined  into  a  quasi- 
maternal  position,  but  a  true  mother  would  have  felt  more 
strongly  that  the  relation  was  not  so  sufficing  to  him  as  to 
her. 

The  Countess  seemed  to  divine  what  was  passing  through 
his  mind.  "If  you  could  get  a  wife  worthy  of  you,"  she 
cried.  "A  brain  to  match  yours,  a  soul  to  feel  yours,  a 
heart  to  echo  the  drum-beat  of  yours,  a  mate  for  your  dun- 
geon or  your  throne,  ready  for  either — but  where  is  this 
paragon  ?" 

388 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

''Yon  are  right,"  cried  Lassalle,  subtly  gratified.  After 
all  Helene  was  a  child  with  a  child's  will,  broken  by  the 
first  obstacle.  "Never  have  I  met  a  woman  I  could  really 
feel  my  mate.  If  ever  I  have  kindled  a  soul  in  one,  it  has 
been  for  a  moment.  No,  I  have  always  known  I  must  live 
and  die  alone.  I  have  told,  you  of  my  early  love  for  the 
beautiful  Eosalie  Zander,  my  old  comrade's  sister,  who  still 
lives  unmarried  for  love  of  me.  But  I  knew  that  to  marry 
her  would  mean  crippling  myself  through  my  tenderness. 
Alone  I  can  suffer  all,  but  how  drag  a  weaker  than  myself 
into  the  tragic  circle  of  my  destinies  ?  No,  Curtius  must 
leaji  into  his  gulf  alone." 

His  words  soothed  her,  but  had  a  sting  in  them. 

"  But  your  happiness  must  be  before  all,"  she  said,  not 
without  meaning  it.  "Only  convince  me  that  you  have 
found  your  equal,  and  she  shall  be  yours  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye.  I  shouldn't  even  allow  love-letters  to  intervene 
— you  are  so  colossal.  Your  Titanic  emotions  overflow 
into  hundreds  of  pages.  You  are  the  most  uneconomical 
man  I  ever  met." 

He  smiled. 

"  A  volcano  is  not  an  ant-heap.  But  I  know  you  are 
right.  For  Lassalle  the  Fighter  the  world  holds  no  Avife. 
If  I  could  only  be  sure  that  the  victory  will  come  in  my 
day." 

"  Remember  what  your  own  Heraclitus  said  :  '  The  best 
follow  after  fame.'" 

"  Yes,  Fame  is  the  Being  of  Man  in  Non-Being.  It  is 
the  immortality  of  man  made  real,"  he  quoted  himself. 
"  But—" 

She  hastened  to  continue  his  quotation.  " '  Hence  it 
has  always  so  mightily  stirred  the  greatest  souls  and  lifted 
them  beyond  all  petty  and  narrow  ends.'" 

"The  ends  are  great — but  the  means,  how  petty  !     The 

389 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Presidency  of  a  Working-Men's  Union,  one  not  even  to  be 
fouuded  in  Berlin." 

'^But  yet  a  General  German  Worlvinsj  -  ]\[en's  Union, 
AVho  knows  what  it  may  grow  to  I  The  capture  of  Berlin 
will  be  a  matter  of  days." 

"  I  had  rather  capture  it  with  the  sword.  Bismarck  is 
right.  The  German  question  can  only  be  solved  by  blood 
and  iron." 

"  Is  it  worth  while  going  over  that  ground  again  ?  Did 
we  not  agree  last  year  in  Caprera  Avhen  Garibaldi  would  not 
see  his  way  to  invading  Austria  for  ns,  that  we  must  put 
our  trust  in  peaceful  methods.  You  have  as  yet  no  real 
following  at  all.  The  Progressists  will  never  make  a  Revo- 
lution, for  all  their  festivals  and  fanfaronades.  This  Na- 
tional League  of  theirs  is  only  a  stage-threat." 

"Yes,  Bismarck  knows  our  weak-kneed,  Avhite-livered 
lourgeois  too  well  to  be  taken  in  by  it.  The  League  talks 
and  Bismarck  is  silent.  Oh,  if  I  had  a  majority  in  the 
Chamber,  as  they  have,  I'd  leave  liim  to  do  the  talking." 

''But  even  if  their  rant  was  serious,  they  would  allow 
you  no  leadership  in  their  revolution.  Have  they  not  al- 
ready rejected  your  overtures  ?  Therefore  this  deputation 
to  you  of  the  Leipzig  working-men  (whom  they  practically 
rejected  by  offering  them  honorary  membership)  is  simply 
providential.  The  conception  of  a  new  and  real  Progres- 
sive Party  that  is  seething  in  their  minds  under  the  stimu- 
lus of  their  contact  with  socialism  in  London — you  did 
write  that  they  had  been  in  London  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  they  went  over  to  see  the  Exhibition.  But  they 
also  represent,  I  take  it,  the  old  communistic  and  revo- 
lutionary traditions,  that  have  never  been  wholly  lulled  to 
sleep  by  our  pseudo-Liberalism.  But  that  is  how  history 
repeats  itself.  When  the  middle  classes  oppose  the  upper 
classes,  they  always  have  the  air  of  figliting  for  tlie  wliole 

090 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

majority.  But  the  day  soon  comes,  especially  if  the  micldle 
classes  get  into  power,  when  the  lower  classes  discover 
there  never  was  any  real  union  of  interests  I" 

"Well,  that's  just  your  chance!"  cried  the  Countess. 
"Here  is  anew  party  waiting  to  be  called  out  of  chaos, 
nay,  calling  to  you.  An  unformed  party  is  just  what  you 
want.  You  give  it  the  impress  of  your  own  personality. 
Remember  your  own  motto  :  Si  svperos  nequeo  movere 
Acheronta  movebo." 

Lassalle  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  He  had  from  the 
first  practically  resolved  on  developing  the  vague  ideas  of 
the  Deputation,  but  he  liked  to  hear  his  own  reasons  in 
the  mouth  of  the  Countess. 

"The  headship  of  a  party  not  even  in  existence,"  he 
murmured.  "That  doesn't  seem  a  very  short  cut  to  the 
German  Republic." 

"  Do  you  doubt  yourself  ?  Think  of  what  you  were 
when  you  took  up  my  cause — a  mere  unknown  boy.  Think 
how  you  fought  it  from  court  to  court,  picking  up  your 
Law  on  the  way,  a  Demosthenes,  a  Cicero,  till  all  the 
world  wondered  and  deemed  you  a  demigod.  You  did  that 
because  I  stood  for  Injustice.  You  were  the  Quixote  to 
right  all  wrong.  You  saw  the  universal  in  the  individual. 
My  case  was  but  a  prefiguration  of  your  real  mission.  Now 
it  is  the  universal  that  calls  to  you.  See  in  your  triumph 
for  me  your  triumph  for  that  suffering  humanity,  with 
which  you  have  taught  me  to  sympathize." 

"  My  noble  Countess  !" 

"AVhat  does  your  own  Franz  von  Sickingen  say  of  his- 
tory ? 

"'And  still  its  Form  remains  for  ever  Force.' 

The  Force  of  the  modern  world  is  the  working  -  man. 
And  as  you  yourself  have  taught  me  that  there  are  no  real 

391 


DEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

revolutions  except  those  that  formully  express  what  is  al- 
ready a  fact,  there  wants  then  only  the  fornuil  expression 
of  the  working-man's  Force.  To  this  Force  you  will  now 
give  Form." 

"What  an  apt  pupil !"  He  stooped  and  kissed  her  lips. 
Then,  walking  about  agitatedly:  ''Yes,"  he  cried;  "I 
will  Aveld  the  workers  of  Germany — to  gain  their  ends  they 
must  fuse  all  their  wills  into  one — none  of  these  acrid, 
petty,  mutually-destructive  individualities  of  the  bourgeois 
— one  gigantic  hammer,  and  I  will  be  the  Thor  who  wields 
it."  His  veins  swelled,  he  seemed  indeed  a  Teutonic  god. 
''And  therefore  I  must  have  Dictators  rights,"  he  went 
on.  "  I  will  not  accept  the  Presidency  to  be  the  mere 
puppet  of  possible  factions." 

"There  speaks  Ferdinand  Lassalle  !  And  now,  mon 
cher  enfant,  you  deserve  to  hear  my  secret." 

She  smiled  brilliantly. 

His  heart  beat  a  little  quicker  as  he  bent  his  ear  to  her 
customary  whisper.  Her  secrets  were  always  interesting, 
sometimes  sensational,  and  there  was  always  a  pleasure  in 
tlio  sense  of  superiority  that  knowledge  conferred,  and  in 
the  feeling  of  touching,  through  liis  Princess-Countess, 
the  inmost  circles  of  European  diplomacy.  He  was  of  the 
gods,  and  should  know  whatever  was  on  the  knees  of  his 
fellow-gods. 

"  Bismarck  is  thinking  of  granting  Universal  Suffrage  !" 

"Universal  Suffrage  !"  he  shouted. 

"  Hush,  hush  !     Walls  have  ears." 

"Then  I  must  have  inspired  him." 

"No  ;  but  you  will  have." 

"How  do  you  mean  ?     Is  it  not  my  idea  ?" 

"  Implicitly,  perhaps,  but  you  have  never  really  pressed 
for  it  specifically.  Your  only  contribution  to  practical 
politics  is  a  futile  suggestion  that  the  Diet  should  refuse  to 

392 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAYIOUE 

sit,  and  so  cut  off  supplies.  Now  of  course  Universal  Suf- 
frage is  the  first  item  of  the  programme  of  your  Working- 
Men's  Union." 

"  Sophie  !" 

She  smiled  and  nodded.  ''Why  should  Bismarck  have 
the  credit,"  she  whispered,  "for  what  is  practically  your 
idea  ?  You  will  seem  to  exact  it  from  him  by  the  force  of 
your  new  party,  which  will  peg  away  at  that  one  point  like 
the  Anti-Corn-Law  people  in  England." 

*' Yes  ;  but  I'll  have  no  Manchester  state-concepts." 

"  I  know,  I  know.  Now  even  if  Bismarck  hesitates," — 
she  made  her  whisper  still  lower — "there  are  foreign  com- 
plications looming  that  will  make  it  impossible  for  him  to 
ignore  the  masses.  Now  I  understand  that  what  the  Leip- 
zig working-men  suggest  is  that  you  shall  write  them  an 
Open  Letter." 

"Yes.  In  it  I  shall  counsel  the  creation  of  the  Fourth 
Party,  I  shall  declare  that  the  Progressists  do  not  repre- 
sent the  People  at  all,  that  their  pretensions  are  as  im- 
pertinent as  their  threats  are  hollow,  that  there  is  no  Peo- 
ple behind  them.  It  will  be  a  thunderbolt  I  Like  Luther's 
nailing  his  theses  to  the  church-door  at  Wittenberg.  And 
to  the  real  masses  themselves  I  shall  declare  :  '  You  are 
the  rock  on  which  the  Church  of  the  Present  is  to  be  built. 
Steep  yourselves  in  the  thought  of  this,  your  mission.  The 
vices  of  the  oppressed,  the  idle  indifference  of  the  thought- 
less, and  even  the  harmless  frivolity  of  the  unimportant  no 
longer  become  you.'  And  I  shall  teach  them  how  to  exact 
from  the  State  the  capital  for  co-operative  associations  that 
will  oust  the  capitalist." 

"And  make  them  capitalists  themselves  ?" 

"That  is  what  Kodbertus  and  Marx  object.  But  you 
must  give  the  working-man  something  definite,  you  must 
educate  him  gradually." 

393 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"Pat  that  second  if  3'ou  will,  but  Universal  Suffrage 
must  be  first." 

"  Naturally.  It  will  be  the  instrument  to  force  the  sec- 
ond." 

"It  will  be  the  instrument  to  force  you  to  the  front. 
Bismarck  will  appear  the  mere  tool  of  your  will.  Who 
knows  but  that  the  King  himself  may  be  a  pawn  on  your 
board  !" 

Lassalle  seized  her  hands.  "  There  I  recognize  my  soul's 
mate." 

"And  I  recognize  the  voice  of  the  von  Bulows,"she  said, 
with  a  half-sob  in  her  laughter,  as  she  drew  back. 

The  lunch  was  brilliant,  blending  the  delicate  perfume 
of  aristocracy  with  free-and-easy  Bohemianism,  and  en- 
hanced by  the  artistic  background  of  pictures,  bric-a-brac, 
and  marble  facsimiles  of  the  masterpieces  of  statuary,  in- 
cluding the  Venus  of  Milo  and  the  Apollo  Belvedere. 

The  Countess  stayed  only  long  enough  to  smoke  a  couple 
of  cigarettes,  but  the  other  guests  were  much  longer  in 
shaking  off  the  fascination  of  Lassalle's  boyish  spirits  and 
delightful  encyclopaedic  monologues.  "When  the  last  guest 
was  gone,  Lassalle  betook  himself  to  the  best  florist  in  Ber- 
lin, composing  a  birthday  poem  on  the  way.  At  the  shop 
he  wrote  it  down,  and,  signing  it  "F.  L.,"  placed  it  in  the 
most  beautiful  basket  of  flowers  he  could  find.  The  di- 
rection was  Friiulein  Helene  von  DOnniges. 


VII 


The  "Open  Eeply  Letter"  did  not  thrill  the  world  like 
a  Lutheran  thesis,  but  it  made  the  Progressists  very  angry. 
What !  they  had  not  the  People  behind  them  !  Tliey  were 
only  exploiting,  not  representing  the  People !     And  while 

394 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

the  Court  organs  chuckled  over  this  flank  attack  on  their 
bragging  foes,  the  Liberal  organs  denounced  Lassalle  as 
the  catspaw  of  reaction.  The  whilom  "friends  of  the 
Avorking-man,"  in  their  haste  to  overturn  Lassalle's  j^osi- 
tion,  tumbled  into  their  own  pits.  Schulze-Delitzscli  him- 
self, founder  of  co-operative  working-men's  societies,  de- 
nouncer of  the  middleman,  now  found  himself  —  in  the 
face  of  Lassalle's  uncompromising  analysis  —  praising  the 
Law  of  Competition,  while  that  Iron  Law  of  Wages,  their 
tendency  to  fall  to  the  minimum  of  subsistence  (which  was 
in  the  canon  of  all  orthodox  economists),  was  denied  the 
moment  it  was  looked  at  resentfully  from  the  wage-earner's 
standpoint,  Herculean  labors  now  fell  upon  Lassalle  —  a 
great  speech  of  four  hours  at  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  the 
founding  of  the  General  German  Working- Men's  Union, 
with  himself  as  dictator  for  five  years,  the  delivery  of  in- 
flammatory speeches  in  town  after  town,  the  publishing  of 
pamphlets  against  the  Progressists,  attempts  to  capture 
Berlin  for  the  cause,  the  successful  fighting  of  his  own  law- 
case.  And  amid  all  this,  the  writing  of  one  of  his  most 
wonderful  and  virulent  books,  at  once  deeply  instructing 
and  passionately  inflaming  the  German  working-man. 

And  always  the  same  sledge-hammer  hittiuig  at  the 
same  nail — Universal  Suffrage,  Get  that  and  you  may  get 
everything.  Nourish  no  resentment  against  the  capital- 
ists. They  are  the  product  of  history  as  much  as  your 
happier  children  will  be.  But  on  the  other  hand,  no  iner- 
tia, no  submission  !  Wake  up  !  English  or  French  work- 
ing-men would  follow  mo  in  a  trice.  You  are  a  pack  of 
valets. 

In  such  a  whirl  Ilelene  von  Donniges  was  shot  off  from 
his  mind  as  a  spinning-top  throws  off  a  straw. 

But  wheii,  after  a  couple  of  months  of  colossal  activity, 
incessant  correspondence,  futile  attempts  to  convert  friends, 

395 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

quarrels  with  the  authorities,  grajiplings  with  the  internal 
cabals  of  the  Union  itself,  he  lied  on  his  summer  tour — 
where  was  the  great  new  Party  ?  He  had  hoped  to  have 
five  hundred  thousand  men  at  his  back,  but  they  had  come 
in  by  beggarly  hundreds.  There  was  even  talk  of  an  in- 
surance bonus  to  attract  them.  Lassalle  had  exaggerated 
both  the  magnetism  of  his  personality  and  the  intelligence 
and  discontent  of  the  masses.  His  masterful  imagination 
had  made  the  outer  world  a  mere  reflection  of  his  inner 
world.  Even  in  those  early  days,  when  he  was  scarcely 
known,  and  that  favorably  rather  than  otherwise,  he  had 
imagined  himself  the  pet  aversion  of  the  comfortable  class- 
es. Knowing  the  role  he  purposed  to  play,  his  dramatic 
self-consciousness  had  reaped  in  anticipation  the  rebel's 
reward.  And  now,  though  he  was  nearer  detestation  than 
before,  there  was  still  no  Party  of  revolt  for  him  to  lead. 
But  he  worked  on  undaunted.  Titanic,  spending  his  money 
to  subsidize  tottering  democratic  papers,  using  his  summer 
journeyings  to  try  to  attach  not  abilities  in  the  countries  he 
passed  through,  and  his  stay  at  tlio  waters  to  draw  up  a 
great  speech,  with  which  he  toured  on  his  return.  And 
now  a  new  cry  !  The  cowardly  venal  Press  must  be  swept 
away.  "  As  true  as  you  are  here,  hanging  on  my  lips, 
eager  and  transported,  as  true  as  my  soul  trembles  with 
the  purest  enthusiasm  in  pouring  itself  wholly  into  yours, 
so  truly  does  the  certainty  penetrate  me  that  a  day  will 
come  when  we  shall  launch  the  thunderbolt  which  will 
bury  that  Press  in  eternal  night."  lie  proposed  that  the 
newspapers  should  therefore  be  deprived  of  their  adver- 
tisement columns.  What  wonder  if  they  accused  him  of 
playing  liismarck's  game  I  And,  indeed,  there  was  not 
wanting  direct  mention  of  Bismarck  in  the  speech.  He  at 
least  was  a  man,  while  the  Progressists  were  old  women. 
The  orator  mocked  their  festive  demonstrations.      They 

89G 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

were  like  the  Roman  slaves  who,  during  the  Saturnalia, 
played  at  being  free.  To  spare  themselves  a  real  battle, 
the  defeated  were  intoning  among  the  wines  and  the  vict- 
uals a  hymn  of  victory.  "  Let  us  lift  up  our  arms  and 
pledge  ourselves,  if  this  Revolution  should  come  about, 
whether  in  this  way  or  in  that,  to  remember  that  the  Pro- 
gressists and  members  of  the  National  League  to  the  last 
declared  they  wanted  no  revolution  !  Pledge  yourselves  to 
do  this,  raise  your  hands  on  high  !"  At  the  Sonningen 
meeting  in  the  great  shooting-gallery,  they  not  only  raised 
their  hands,  but  their  knives,  against  interrupting  Progres- 
sists. The  Burgomaster,  a  Progressist,  at  the  head  of  ten 
gendarmes  armed  with  bayonets,  and  policemen  with  drawn 
swords,  dissolved  the  meeting.  Lassalle,  half  followed, 
half  borne  onward  by  six  thousand  cheering  men,  strode  to 
the  telegraph  ofl&ce,  and  sent  off  a  telegram  to  Bismarck. 
His  working-men's  meeting  had  been  dissolved  by  a  Pro- 
gressist Burgomaster  Avithout  any  legal  justification.  "I 
ask  for  the  severest,  promptest  legal  satisfaction." 


VIII 

Bismarck  took  no  official  notice.  But  it  was  not  long 
before  the  Countess  succeeded  in  bringing  the  two  men  to- 
gether. The  way  had  indeed  been  paved.  If  Lassalle's 
idealism  had  survived  the  experience  of  tlie  Ilatzfeldt  law- 
suits, if  he  had  yet  to  learn  that  the  Fighter  cannot  jjick 
his  steps  as  cleanly  and  logically  as  the  Thinker,  those  miry 
law -suits,  waged  unscrupulously  on  both  sides,  had  pre- 
pared him  to  learn  the  lesson  readily  and  to  apply  it  un- 
flinchingly. Without  Force  behind  one,  victory  must  be 
sought  more  circnitously.  But  to  a  man  who  represents 
no  Force,  how  shall  Bismarck  listen  ?     What  have  you  to 

897 


DEEAMERS    OF    TUE    GHETTO 

offer  ?  "Do  lit  des"  is  his  overt  motto.  To  poor  devils  I 
have  nothing  to  &ay.  Lussulle  must  therefore  needs  mag- 
nify his  office  of  President,  wave  his  arm  Avith  an  air  of 
vague  malcontent  millions.  Was  Bismarck  taken  in  ?  "Who 
shall  say  ?  In  after-years,  though  he  had  in  the  meantime 
granted  Universal  Suffrage  in  Prussia,  he  told  the  Iveich- 
stag  he  was  merely  fascinated  by  this  marvellous  conversa- 
tionalist, who  delighted  him  for  hours,  without  his  being 
able  to  get  a  word  in  ;  by  this  grandiloquent  Demagogue 
without  a  Demos,  who  plainly  loved  Germany,  yet  was  un- 
certain whether  the  German  Empire  would  be  formed  by  a 
Hohenzollern  dynasty  or  a  Lassalle  dynasty.  And,  in  truth, 
since  extremes  meet,  there  was  much  in  Lassalle's  concep- 
tion of  the  State,  and  in  his  German  patriotism,  which 
made  him  subtly  akin  to  the  Conservative  Chancellor. 
They  walked  arm-in-arm  in  the  streets  of  Berlin,  Bismarck 
parading  heart  on  sleeve  ;  they  discussed  the  annexation  of 
Schleswig-Holstein.  Bismarck  promised  both  Universal 
Suffrage  and  State-Capitalized  Associations — ''only  let  us 
wait  till  the  Avar  is  done  Avith !''  En  attendant ,  the  profit 
of  his  strange  alliance  with  this  thorn  in  his  enemies' flesh, 
was  Avholly  to  tlie  Minister.  But  Lassalle,  exalted  to  for- 
getfulness  of  the  pettiness  of  the  army  at  his  back,  almost 
persuaded  himself  to  believe  as  he  believed  Bismarck  be- 
lieved. "Bismarck  is  my  tool,  my  plcnipotentiar}^,''  he  de- 
clared to  his  friends.  And  to  his  judges  :  "I  play  cards 
on  table,  gentlemen,  for  the  hand  is  strong  enough.  Per- 
haps before  a  year  is  over  Universal  Suffrage  Avill  be  the 
laAV  of  the  land,  and  Bismarck  Avill  have  enacted  the  role  of 
Sir  Robert  Peel."  He  even  gave  his  followers  to  under- 
stand that  the  King  of  Prussia's  promise  to  consider  the 
condition  of  the  Silesian  weavers  Avas  the  result  of  his 
pressure.  And  Avas  not  the  Bishop  of  Mayence  an  open 
partisan  ?     Church,  King,  and    Minister,  do  you   not  see 

398 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

them  all  dragged  at  1113'  chariot  wheels  ?  Nevertheless,  he 
failed  completely  to  organize  a  branch  at  Berlin.  And  new 
impeachments  for  inciting  to  hatred  and  contempt,  and  for 
high-treason,  came  to  cripple  his  activity.  ''If  I  have  glo- 
rified political  passion/'  he  cried  in  his  defence,  "I  have 
only  followed  Hegel's  maxim  :  '  Nothing  great  has  ever 
been  done  in  the  world  without  passion."' 

He  was  in  elegant  evening  dress,  with  patent-leather 
boots,  the  one  cool  person  in  the  stifling  court.  For  liours 
and  hours  lie  spoke,  with  the  perpetually  changing  accents 
of  the  great  orator  who  has  so  studied  his  art  that  it  has 
become  nature.  Now  he  was  winning,  persuasive,  now 
menacing,  terrible,  now  with  disdainful  smile  and  half- 
closed  eyes  of  contempt.  And  ever  and  anon  he  threw 
back  his  head  with  the  insolent  majesty  of  a  Roman  Em- 
peror. Even  when  there  was  a  touch  of  personal  pathos, 
defiance  followed  on  its  heels.  "  I  used  to  go  to  gaol  as 
others  go  to  the  ball,  but  I  am  no  longer  young.  Prison  is 
hard  for  a  mature  man,  and  there  is  no  article  of  the  code 
that  entitles  you  to  send  me  there."'  Yet  six  months'  im- 
prisonment was  adjudged  him,  and  the  most  he  could  ob- 
tain by  his  ingeniously  inexhaustible  technical  pleas  was 
deferment  of  his  punishment. 

But  there  was  consolation  in  the  memories  of  his  trium- 
phal tour  through  the  Rhenish  provinces,  where  the  Union 
had  struck  Avidest  root.  Town  after  town  sent  its  whole 
population  to  greet  him.  Roaring  thousands  met  him  at 
the  railway  stations,  and  he  passed  under  triumphal  arches 
and  through  streets  a-flutter  Avith  flags,  Avhere  working- 
girls  welcomed  him  with  showers  of  roses.  "  Such  scenes 
as  these,"  he  wrote  to  the  Countess,  "must  have  attended 
the  foundation  of  new  religions."  And,  indeed,  as  weeping 
working-men  fought  to  draw  his  carriage,  and  as  he  looked 
upon  the  vast  multitudes  surging  around  him,  he  could  not 

399 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

but  remember  Heine's  prophecy  :  ''  You  Avill  be  the  Messiah 
of  the  uiueteeuth  century." 

"I  have  not  grasped  this  banner,"  he  cried  at  Ronsdorf, 
''^without  knowing  quite  clearly  that  I  myself  may  fall. 
But  in  the  Avords  of  the  Roman  poet  : 

"'Exoriare  aliquis  nostris  ex  ossibus  ultor.' 

May  some  avenger  and  successor  arise  out  of  my  bones ! 
May  this  great  and  national  movement  of  civilization  not 
fall  with  my  person.  But  may  the  conflagration  which  I 
have  kindled  spread  farther  and  farther  as  long  as  one  of 
you  still  breathes  !" 

Those  were  his  last  words  to  the  working-men  of  Ger- 
many. 

For  beneath  all  the  flowers  and  the  huzzahing  what  a 
tragedy  of  broken  health  and  broken  hopes  !  Each  glow- 
ing speech  represented  a  victory  over  throat-disease  and 
over  his  own  fits  of  scepticism.  His  nerves,  shattered  by 
the  tremendous  strain  of  the  year,  the  fevers,  the  disillu- 
sions, the  unprofitable  shiftings  of  standpoint,  painted  the 
prospect  as  black  as  they  had  formerly  ensanguined  it. 
And  the  six  months'  imprisonment  hanging  over  him  gained 
added  terrors  from  his  physical  breakdown.  Even  on  his 
eider-down  bed  he  could  not  avoo  sleep — how  then  on  a  pris- 
on pallet  ? 

When  he  started  the  Union  he  had  imagined  he  could 
bring  the  Socialistic  movement  to  a  liead  in  a  year.  When, 
after  a  year  as  crammed  as  many  a  lifetime,  he  went  down 
at  the  Countess's  persuasion  to  take  the  milk-cure  at  Kalt- 
bad  on  the  Righi,  he  confessed  to  his  friend  Becker  that  he 
saw  no  near  hope  save  from  a  European  war. 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 


IX 

OxE  stormy  day  at  the  end  of  July,  a  bovine-eyed  Swiss 
boy,  dripping  with  rain,  appeared  at  the  hygienic  hotel, 
where  Lassalle  sat  brooding  with  his  feet  on  the  mantel- 
piece, to  tell  him  that  a  magnificent  lady  Avanted  to  see 
him.  She  was  with  a  party  that  had  taken  refuge  in  a 
mountain-side  shed.  A  great  coup  his  resurgiug  energy 
was  meditating  at  Hamburg,  was  swept  clean  from  his  mind. 

He  dashed  down,  his  heart  beating  with  a  hopeless  sur- 
mise, and  saw,  amid  a  strange  group,  the  golden  hair  of 
Helene  von  Donniges  shining  like  a  star.  He  accepted  it 
at  once  as  the  star  of  his  destiny.  His  strength  seemed 
flowing  back  in  swift  currents  of  glowing  blood. 

''By  all  the  gods  of  Greece,"  he  cried,  "  'tis  she  V 

In  an  instant  they  were  lovers  again,  and  her  American 
friend  and  confidante,  Mrs.  Arson,  was  enchanted  by  this 
handsome  apparition,  which,  Helene  protested,  she  had 
only  summoned  up  half  laughingly.  Dear  old  Holthoff 
had  written  her  that  Lassalle  was  somewhere  on  the  Kighi, 
but  she  had  not  really  believed  she  would  stumble  on  him. 
She  Avas  suffering  from  nervous  prostration,  and  it  Avas  only 
the  accident  of  Mrs.  Arson's  holiday  plan  for  her  children 
that  had  enabled  her  to  obey  the  doctor's  advice  to  breathe 
mountain  air. 

''I  breathe  it  for  the  first  time,"  said  Lassalle.  "Do 
yon  know  Avhat  I  Avas  doing  Avhen  your  boy-angel  came  ? 
Writing  to  Holthoff  and  old  Boockh  the  philologist  for  in- 
troductions to  your  father.  The  game  has  dallied  on  long 
enough.     We  must  finish." 

Helene  blushed  charmingly,  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Arson 
Avith  a  glance  that  sought  protection  against  and  admira- 
tion for  his  audacity. 

2  c  401 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''I  guess  you're  made  for  each  other,"  said  Mrs.  Arson, 
carried  off  her  feet.  "  Why,  you're  like  twins.  Are  you 
relatives  ?" 

''That's  what  everybody  asks,"  said  Helene.  ''Why, 
even  before  I  met  him,  people  piqued  my  curiosity  about 
him  by  saying  I  talked  like  him." 

"  It  was  the  best  compliment  I  had  ever  received — said 
behind  my  back  too.  But  people  are  right  for  once.  Do 
you  know  that  the  painter  to  whom  I  gave  your  portrait  to 
inspire  him  for  the  Brunehild  fresco  said  that  in  drawing 
our  two  faces  he  discovered  that  they  have  exactly  the 
same  anatomical  structure." 

Her  face  took  on  that  fascinating  diablerie  which  men 
found  irresistible. 

"Then  your  compliments  to  me  are  only  boomerangs." 

"Boomerangs  only  return  when  they  miss." 

The  storm  abating,  they  moved  up  the  mountain,  talking 
gaily.  Mrs.  Arson  and  her  children  kept  considerately  iu 
the  rear  with  their  guide.  Helene  admired  Lassalle's  stick. 
He  handed  it  to  her. 

"  It  was  Robespierre's.  Forster  the  historian  gave  it  me. 
That  repousse  gold-work  on  the  handle  is  of  course  the  Bas- 
tille." 

"  How  appropriate  I"  she  laughed. 

"AVhich?     The  Bastille  to   the  stick,   or  the  stick  to 


me 


9" 


"  Both." 

He  grew  serious. 

"  What  would  you  do  if  I  lost  my  head  ?" 

"  I  should  stand  by  till  your  head  was  severed  in  order 
that  you  might  look  on  your  beloved  to  the  last.  Then  I 
should  take  poison." 

"  My  Cleopatra  !" 

Her  litful  face  changed. 

402 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

'*  Or  marry  Jauko  !" 

^'That  weakling — is  he  still  hovering  ?" 

"  He  passed  the  winter  with  us.  He  looks  upon  me  as 
his/'  she  said  dolefully 

"I  flick  him  away.  Do  not  try  to  belong  to  another.  I 
tell  you  solemnly  I  claim  you  as  mine.  We  cannot  resist 
destiny.  Our  meeting  to-day  proves  it.  To-morrow  we 
climb  to  see  the  sunrise  together, — the  sunrise  over  the 
mountains.  Symbol  of  our  future  that  begins.  The 
heavens  opening  in  purple  and  gold  over  the  white  sum- 
mits— love  breaking  upon  your  virginal  purity." 

Already  she  felt,  as  of  yore,  swept  off  on  roaring  seas. 
But  the  rush  and  the  ecstasy  had  their  alloy  of  terror.  To 
be  witii  him  was  to  be  no  longer  herself,  but  a  hypnotized 
stranger.  Perhaps  she  was  unwise  to  have  provoked  this 
meeting.  She  should  have  remembered  he  was  not  to  be 
coquetted  with.  As  well  put  a  match  to  a  gunpowder  bar- 
rel to  warm  your  fingers.  Every  other  man  could  be  played 
with.     This  one  swallowed  you  up. 

''  But  Prince  Janko  has  no  one  but  me,"  she  tried  to 
protest.     "My  little  Moorish  page,  my  young  Othello  !" 

"Keep  him  a  page.  Othellos  are  best  left  bachelors. 
Remember  the  fate  of  Desdemona." 

"I'll  give  you  both  up,"  she  half  whimpered.  "I'll  go 
on  the  stage." 

"  You  !" 

"  Yes.  Everybody  says  I'm  splendid  at  burlesque.  You 
should  see  me  as  a  boy." 

"You  baby  I  You  need  no  triumphs  in  the  mimic  world. 
Your  role  is  grander." 

"  Oh,  please  let  us  wait  for  Mrs.  Arson.  You  go  too 
fast." 

"  I  don't.  I  have  waited  a  year  for  you.  When  shall  wc 
marry  ?" 

403 


DEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'  Not  before  onr  Avedding-day." 

"  Evasive  Helene  I" 

"  Cruel  Ferdinand  !  Ask  anything  of  me,  but  not  will- 
power." 

A  little  cough  came  to  accentuate  lier  weakness. 

**My  darling  !"  he  cried  in  deep  emotion.  "  We'll  fly  to 
Egypt  or  the  Indies.  I'll  hang  up  politics  and  all  that 
frippery.  My  books  and  science  shall  claim  me  again,  and 
I  will  watch  over  my  ailing  little  girl  till  she  becomes  the 
old  splendid  Brunehild  again  !" 

"  No,  no,  I  am  no  Brunehild  ;  only  a  modern  woman 
with  nerves — the  most  feminine  woman  in  the  Avorld,  irre- 
sponsible, capricious — please,  please  remember." 

"  It  you  were  not  yourself  I  should  not  love  you." 

*'But  it  cannot  come  to  anything." 

*'  Cannot  ?     The  word  is  for  pigmies." 

"  But  my  mother  ?" 

"She  is  a  woman — I  will  talk  to  her." 

"  My  father  !" 

"  He  is  a  man,  with  men  one  can  always  get  on.  They 
are  reasonable.  Besides,  you  tell  me  he  is  an  author,  and 
I  will  read  his  famous  books." 

She  smiled  faintly.      "But  there  is  myself." 

"  You  are  myself — and  I  never  doubt  myself." 

''Oh,  but  there  are  heaps  of  other  difficulties." 

"  There  are  none  other." 

She  pouted  doliciously.  "  You  don't  know  everything 
under  the  sun." 

"  Under  your  aureole  of  hair,  do  you  mean  ?" 

''What  if  I  do?"  she  smiled  back.  "You  must  not 
trust  me  too  far.  I  am  a  spoilt  child  —  wild,  unbridled, 
unaccustomed  to  please  others  except  by  pleasing  my- 
self." 

Her  actress-nature  enjoyed  the  picture  of  herself.     She 

404 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

felt  that  Baudelaire  himself  would  have  admired  it.     Las- 
salle's  answer  was  subtly  attuned  : 

"  My  Satanic  enchantress  I  my  bewitching  child  of  the 
devil." 

"  Bien  foil  qui  s'y  fie.  When  I  lived  at  Xice  in  that 
royal  Bohemia,  where  musicians  rubbed  shoulders  with 
grand-duchesses,  and  the  King  of  Bavaria  exchanged  epi- 
grams v/ith  Bulwer  Lytton,  do  you  know  what  they  called 
me  ?" 

''  The  Queen  of  all  the  Follies  !" 

"You  know?" 

"  Did  I  not  love  my  Brunehild  ere  we  met  ?" 

"Yes,  and  I — knew  of  you.  Only  I  didn't  recognize 
you  at  first,  because  they  told  me  you  were  a  frightful 
demagogue  and — a — a — Jew  V 

He  laughed.  "And  so  you  expected  a  gaberdine.  And 
yet  surely  Bulwer  Lytton  gave  you  a  j^resentation  copy  of 
Leila.  Don't  you  remember  the  Jew  in  it  ?  As  a  boy  I 
had  his  ideal — to  redeem  my  people.  But  if  my  Judaism 
offends  you,  I  can  become  a  Christian — not  in  belief  of 
course,  but — " 

"Oil,  not  for  worlds.  I  believe  too  little  myself  to 
bother  about  religion.  My  friends  call  me  the  Greek,  be- 
cause I  can  readily  believe  in  many  gods,  but  only  with 
difficulty  in  one." 

He  laughed.     "  Is  it  the  same  in  love  ?" 

Her  eyes  gleamed  archly. 

"  Yes.  Hitherto,  at  least,  a  single  man  has  never  suf- 
ficed. With  only  one  I  had  time  to  see  all  his  faults, 
and  since  my  first  love,  a  Russian  officer,  I  would  al- 
ways have  preferred  to  keep  three  knives  dancing  in  the 
air.  But  as  that  was  impossible,  I  generally  halved  my 
loaf." 

The  mountains  rang  with  his  laughter. 

405 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"  AYell,  I  haven't  lived  a  saint,  and  I  can't  expect  my 
wife  to  bring  more  than  I." 

"■'Yon  bring  too  mnch.     You  bring  that  Countess." 

"My  dear  Helene,"  he  said,  struck  serious.  "I  am  en- 
tirely free  in  regard  to  the  Countess,  as  she  is  long  since 
as  regards  me.  Of  course  she  will,  at  the  first  shock,  feel 
opi^osed  to  my  marriage  with  a  distinguished  young  girl 
on  the  same  intellectual  level  as  herself.  That  is  human, 
feminine,  natural.  But  when  she  knows  yon  she  will  adore 
you,  and  you  will  repay  her  in  kind,  since  she  is  my  second 
mother.  You  do  not  understand  her.  The  dear  Countess 
desires  no  other  happiness  than  to  see  me  happy." 

''And  therefore,"  said  Helene  cynically,  "she  will  warn 
you  to  be\vare.  She  will  hunt  up  all  my  offences  against 
holy  German  morals — " 

"  I  don't  care  what  she  hunts  up.  All  1  ask  is,  be  a 
monotheist  henceforwards." 

"Now  you  are  asking  me  to  become  a  Jewess." 

"  I  ask  you  only  to  become  my  wife." 

He  caught  her  hands  passionately.  His  eyes  seemed  to 
drink  her  in.  She  fluttered,  enjoying  her  bird-like  help- 
lessness. 

"Turn  your  eyes  away,  my  royal  eagle !" 

"  You  are  mine  !  you  are  mine  !"  he  cried. 

"I  am  my  father's — I  am  Janko's,"  she  panted. 

"  They  are  shadows.  Listen  to  yourself.  Be  true  to 
yourself." 

"  I  have  no  self.  It  seems  so  selfish  to  have  one.  I  am 
anything— a  fay,  a  sprite,  an  elf."  She  freed  her  hands 
with  a  sudden  twist  and  ran  laughing  up  the  mountain. 

"  To  the  sunrise  !"  she  cried.     "  To  the  sunrise  !" 

He  gave  chase  :  "  To  the  sunrise  !     To  the  symbol  !" 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 


But  the  next  morning  the  symbolic  sunrise  they  rose  to 
see  was  hidden  by  fog  and  rain. 

And — what  was  still  more  disappointing  to  Lassalle — • 
Mrs.  Arson  insisted  on  escaping  with  her  charges  from  this 
depressing  climate  and  re -descending  to  Wabern,  the 
village  near  Berne,  where  they  had  been  staying. 

Not  even  Lassalle's  fascinations  and  persuasions  could 
counteract  the  pertinacious  plash-plash  of  the  rain,  and 
the  chilling  mist,  and  perhaps  the  uneasy  pricks  of  her 
awakening  chaperon-conscience.  Nor  could  he  extract  a 
decisive  ''Yes "from  his  fluttering  volatile  enchantress. 
At  Kaltbad,  where  they  said  farewell,  he  pressed  lier  hands 
with  passion.  "For  a  little  while  I  Be  prudent  and 
strong  !  You  have  the  goodness  of  a  child — and  a  child's 
will.  Oh,  if  I  could  pour  into  these  blue  veins " — he 
kissed  them  fiercely — "  only  one  drop  of  my  giant's  will, 
of  my  Titanic  energy.  Grip  my  hands  ;  perhaps  I  can  do 
it  by  magnetism.  I  will  to  join  our  lives.  You  must  will 
too.  Then  there  are  no  difficulties.  Only  say 'Yes' — but 
definitely,  unambiguously,  of  your  own  free  will  —  and  I 
answer  for  the  rest." 

The  thought  of  Janko  resurged  painfully  when  his  giant's 
will  was  left  behind  on  the  heights.  How  ill  she  would  be 
using  him — her  pretty  delicate  boy  ! 

The  giant's  will  loft  behind  her  ?  Never  had  Helene 
been  more  mistaken.  The  very  reverse  I  It  went  before 
her  all  day  like  a  pillar  of  fire.  At  the  first  stopping-place 
a  letter  already  awaited  her,  brought  by  a  swift  courier ; 
lower  down  a  telegram  ;  as  she  got  off  her  horse  another 
letter  ;  at  her  hotel  two  copious  telegrams  ;  as  she  stepped 
ou  board  the  lake  steamer  a  final  letter — all  breathing  pas- 

407 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

sion,  encouragement,  solicitous   instructions   to   wrap  up 

AVCU. 

Wrap  up  well !     He  wrapped  one  up  in  himself! 

Half  fascinated,  half  panting  for  free  air,  but  wholly  flat- 
tered and  enamoured,  she  wrote  at  once  to  break  off  with 
Janko  and  surrender  to  her  Satanic  Ferdinand. 

"Yes,  friend  Satan,  the  child  wills!  A  drop  of  your  di- 
abolical blood  has  passed  into  her  veins.  I  am  yours  for 
life.  But  first  try  reasonable  means.  Make  my  parents' 
acquaintance,  cover  up  your  horns  and  tail,  try  and  win 
me  like  a  bourgeois.  If  that  fails,  there  is  always  Egypt. 
But  quick,  quick:  I  cannot  bear  scenes  and  delays  and 
comments.  Once  we  are  married,  let  society  stare.  With 
you  to  lean  on  I  snap  my  fingers  at  the  world.  The  ob- 
stacles are  gigantic,  but  you  are  also  a  giant,  Avho  with 
God's  lielp  smashes  rocks  to  sand,  that  even  my  breath  can 
blow  away.  I  must  stab  the  beautiful  dream  of  a  noble 
youth,  but  even  this — frightfully  painful  for  me  as  it  is — 
I  do  for  you.  I  say  nothing  of  the  disappointment  to  my 
parents,  of  the  pain  of  all  I  love  and  respect.  I  am  writing 
to  Holthoff,  my  father-confessor.  We  must  have  him  for 
us,  with  us,  near  us.     God  has  destined  us  for  each  other." 

A  telegram  replied:  "Bravissimol  I  am  on  my  way  to 
join  you." 

And  to  the  Countess,  fighting  rheumatism  at  the  waters 
of  Wildbad  in  the  Black  Forest,  he  wrote:  "The  rain  has 
passed,  the  long  fog  has  gone.  The  mountains  stand  out 
mighty  and  dazzling,  peak  beyond  peak,  like  the  heights  of 
a  life.  What  a  sunset !  The  Eiger  seemed  Avrapped  in  a 
vapor  of  burning  gold.  My  sufferings  are  nearly  ail  wiped 
out.  I  am  joyous,  full  of  life  and  love.  And  I  have  also 
finished  at  last  with  that  terrible  correspondence  for  the 
Union.  Seventy-six  pages  of  minute  writing  have  I  sent  to 
Berlin  yesterday  and  to-day,  and  I  breathe  again.     In  my 

408 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

yesterday's  letter  I  broke  Helene  to  yon.  It  is  extrcaor- 
diuarily  fortunate  that  on  the  verge  of  forty  I  should  be 
able  to  find  a  wife  so  beautiful,  so  sympathetic,  who  loves 
me  so  much,  and  who,  as  you  and  I  agreed  was  indispensa- 
ble, is  entirely  absorbed  in  my  personality.  In  your  last 
letter  you  throw  cold  water  on  my  proposed  journey  to 
Hamburg  ;  and  perhaps  you  are  right  in  thinking  the  coup 
I  planned  not  so  great  and  critical  as  I  have  been  imagin- 
ing. But  how  you  misunderstand  my  motives  when  you 
Avrite  :  '  Cannot  you,  till  your  health  is  re-established,  find 
contentment  for  a  while  in  science,  in  friendship,  in  Nat- 
ure T  You  think  politics  the  breath  of  my  nostrils.  Ah, 
how  little  you  are  au  fait  with  me  I  I  desire  nothing  more 
ardently  than  to  be  quite  rid  of  all  politics,  and  to  devote 
myself  to  science,  friendship,  and  Nature.  I  am  sick  and 
tired  of  politics.  Truly  I  Avould  burn  as  passionately  for 
them  as  any  one,  if  there  were  anything  serious  to  be  done, 
or  if  I  had  the  power  or  saw  the  means,  a  means  worthy  of 
me  ;  for  without  supreme  power  nothing  can  be  done.  For 
child's  play,  however,  I  am  too  old  and  too  great.  That  is 
why  I  very  reluctantly  undertook  the  Presidentship.  I 
only  yielded  to  you,  and  that  is  why  it  now  weighs  upon 
me  terribly.  If  I  were  but  rid  of  it,  this  were  the  moment 
I  should  choose  to  go  to  Naples  with  you.  But  how  to  get 
rid  of  it  ?  For  events,  I  fear,  will  develop  slowly,  so  slow- 
ly, and  my  burning  soul  finds  no  interest  in  these  children's 
maladies  and  petty  progressions.  Politics  means  actual, 
immediate  activity.  Otherwise  one  can  work  just  as  well 
for  humanity  by  writing.  I  shall  still  try  to  exercise  at 
Hamburg  a  pressure  upon  events.  But  up  to  what  point  it 
will  be  effective  I  cannot  say.  Nor  do  I  promise  myself 
much  from  it.     Ah,  could  I  but  get  out  of  it  I 

"  Helene  is  a  wonderful  creature,  the  only  personality  I 
could  wed.    She  looks  forward  to  your  friendship.    I  know 

409 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

it.  For  T  am  a  good  observer  of  women  without  seeming 
to  be.  That  dear  enfant  du  (liable,  as  everybody  calls  her 
at  Geneva,  has  a  deep  sympathy  for  you,  because  she  is,  as 
Goethe  puts  it,  an  original  nature.  Only  one  fault — 
but  gigantic.  She  has  no  Will.  But  if  we  became  hus- 
band and  wife,  that  would  cease  to  be  a  fault.  I  have 
enough  Will  for  two,  and  she  would  be  the  liute  in  the 
hands  of  the  artist.     But  till  then — " 

The  Countess  showed  herself  a  kind  Cassandra.  His 
haste,  she  replied,  would  ruin  his  cause.  He  had  to  deal 
with  Philistines.  The  father  was  a  man  of  no  small  self- 
esteem — he  had  been  the  honored  tutor  of  Maximilian  II., 
and  was  now  in  high  favor  at  the  Bavarian  court,  even 
controlling  university  and  artistic  appointments.  A  So- 
cialist would  be  especially  distasteful  to  him.  Twenty 
years  ago  Varnhagen  von  Ense  had  heard  him  lecture  on 
Communism — good-humoredly,  wittily,  shrugging  should- 
ers at  these  poor,  fantastic  fools  who  didn't  understand 
that  the  world  was  excellently  arranged  centuries  before 
they  were  born.  Ilelene  herself,  with  her  weak  will, 
would  be  unable  to  outface  her  family.  Before  approach- 
ing the  parents,  had  he  not  better  wait  the  final  develop- 
ments of  his  law-case  ?  If  he  had  to  leave  Germany  tem- 
porarily to  escape  the  imprisonment,  would  not  that  be 
a  favorable  opportunity  for  prosecuting  his  love-affairs  in 
Switzerland  ?  And  what  a  pity  to  throw  up  his  milk-cure  ! 
"  Enfin,  I  wish  you  success,  man  dier  enfant,  though  I  will 
only  put  complete  trust  in  my  own  eyes.  In  feminine 
questions  you  have  neither  reason  nor  judgment." 

Lassalle's  response  was  to  enclose  a  pretty  letter  from 
Helene,  pleading  humbly  for  the  Countess's  affection. 
Together  let  them  nurse  the  sick  eagle.  She  herself  was 
but  a  child,  and  would  lend  herself  to  any  childish  follies 
to  drive  the  clouds  froui  his  brow.     She  would  try  to  com- 

410 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUK 

proliend  his  magnificent  soul,  his  giant  mind,  and  in  hap- 
piness or  in  sorrow  would  remain  faithful  and  firm  at  his 
side. 

The  Countess  knit  her  brow.     Then  Lassalle  Avas  already 
with  this  Helena  in  Berne. 


XI 

It  was  a  week  of  delicious  happiness,  niched  amid  the 
eternal  mountains,  fused  with  skies  and  waters. 

With  an  accommodating  chaj^eron  Avho  knew  no  Ger- 
man, the  couple  could  do  and  say  what  they  pleased.  Las- 
salle, throwing  off  the  heavy  burdens  of  prophet  and  poli- 
tician, alternated  between  brilliant  lover  and  happy-hearted 
boy.  It  was  almost  a  honeymoon.  Now  they  were  children 
with  all  the  overflowing  endearments  of  plighted  lovers. 
Now  they  were  on  the  heights  of  intellect,  talking  poetry 
and  philosophy,  and  reading  Lassalle's  Avorks  ;  now  they 
were  discussing  Balzac's  PlLysiologie  du  Mariage.  Anon 
Lassalle  was  a  large  dog,  gambolling  before  his  capricious 
mistress.  "  Lie  down,  sir,"  she  cried  once,  as  he  was  read- 
ing a  poem  to  her.  And  with  peals  of  Homeric  laughter 
Ferdinand  declared  she  had  found  the  only  inoffensive  way 
of  silencing  him.  "If  ever  I  displease  you  in  future,  you 
have  only  to  say,  '  Lie  down,  sir  !' "  And  he  began  bark- 
ing joyously. 

And  in  the  glow  of  this  happiness  his  sense  of  political 
defeat  evaporated.  He  burgeoned,  expanded,  flung  back 
his  head  in  the  old,  imperial  Avay.  "By  God!"  he  said, 
marching  up  and  doAvn  the  room  feverishly,  "you  have 
chosen  no  mean  destiny.  Have  you  any  idea  of  Avhat  Fer- 
dinand Lassalle's  Avife  Avill  be  ?  Look  at  me  !"  He  stood 
still.     "  Do   I  look  a  man  to  be  content  with  the  second 

411 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

r6le  in  the  State  ?  Do  you  think  I  give  the  sleep  of  my 
nights,  the  marrow  of  my  bones,  the  strength  of  my  lungs, 
to  draw  somebody  else's  chestnuts  out  of  the  fire  ?  Do  I 
look  like  a  political  martyr  ?  'No  I  I  wish  to  act,  to  fight, 
and  also  to  enjoy  the  crown  of  victory,  to  place  it  on  your 
brow." 

A  vision  of  the  roaring  streets  and  floral  arches  of  the 
Rhenish  cities  flashed  past  him.  "  Chief  of  the  People, 
President  of  the  German  Republic, — there's  the  only  true 
sovereignty.  That  was  Avhat  kings  were  once — giants  of  brain 
and  brawn.  Kjing — one  who  knows,  one  who  can  !  Head- 
ship is  for  the  head.  What  is  this  mock  dignity  that  stands 
on  the  lying  breaths  of  winking  courtiers  ?  What  is  this 
farcical,  factitious  glamour  that  will  not  bear  the  light  of 
day  ?  The  Grace  of  God  ?  Ay,  give  me  god-like  man- 
hood, and  I  will  bend  the  knee.  But  to  ask  me  to  worship 
a  stuffed  purple  robe  on  a  worm-eaten  throne  !  'Tis  an  in- 
sult to  manhood  and  reason.  Hereditary  kingship  I  When, 
you  can  breed  souls  as  you  breed  racehorses  it  will  be  time 
to  consider  that.  Stand  here  by  my  side  before  this  mir- 
ror. Is  not  that  a  proud,  a  royal  coujjle  ?  Did  not  Nature 
fashion  these  two  creatures  in  a  holiday  mood  of  joy  and  in- 
toxication ?  Vive  la  RepubUqite  and  its  Queen  Avith  the 
golden  locks  !" 

"  Vive  la  Rcpnhlique  and  its  eagle  King  !''  she  cried,  in- 
toxicated, yet  with  more  of  dramatic  enjoyment  than  of 
serious  conviction. 

"Bravo  !  You  believe  in  our  star  !  Since  I  met  you  I 
see  it  shining  clearer  over  the  heights.  We  mount,  we 
mount,  peak  beyond  peak.  We  have  enemies  enough  now, 
thick  as  the  serpents  in  tropic  forests.  Well,  let  them  soil 
with  their  impure  slaver  the  hem  of  our  garments.  But' 
how  they  will  crawl  fangless  when  Ferdinand — the  Elect  of 
the  People — makes  his  solemn  entry  into  Berlin.     And  at' 

413 


THE    PEOPLE\S    SAVIOUR 

his  side,  drawn  by  six  white  liorses,  his  blonde  darling, 
changed  into  the  first  woman  of  Germany."  He,  too, 
though  to  him  the  fancy  was  real  enough  for  the  moment, 
enjoyed  it  with  a  certain  artistic  aloofness. 


XII 

In  honor  of  the  fiances  —  for  such  they  openly  avowed 
themselves,  Geneva  and  Helene's  family  being  sufficiently 
distant  to  be  temporarily  forgotten — the  American  Consul 
at  Berne  gave  a  charming  dinner.  There  was  a  gallant  old 
Frenchman,  a  honey  -  tongued  Italian,  a  pervasive  air  of 
complimentary  congratulation.  lielene  returned  to  her 
hotel,  thrilling  with  pleasure  and  happy  auguries.  The 
night  was  soft  and  warm.  Before  undressirrg  she  leaned 
out  of  the  window  of  her  room  on  the  ground  floor,  and 
gazed  upon  the  eternal  glaciers,  sparkling  like  silver  un- 
der the  full  moon.  Through  every  sense  she  drank  in  the 
mystery  and  perfume  of  the  night,  till  her  spirit  seemed  at 
one  with  the  stars  and  the  mountains.  Suddenly  she  felt 
two  mighty  arms  clasped  about  her.  Lassalle  stood  out- 
side.    Her  heart  throbbed  violently. 

"  Hush  !"  he  said,  "  don't  be  frightened.  I  will  stay 
outside  here,  good  and  quiet,  till  you  are  tired  and  say, 
*  Lie  down,  sir  !'     Then  I  will  go  !" 

"My  gentle  Romeo  V  she  whispered,  and  bent  her  fra- 
grant lips  to  meet  his — the  divine  kiss  of  god  and  goddess 
in  the  divine  night.  "  My  Ferdinand  !"  she  breathed. 
"  If  we  should  be  parted  after  all.  I  tremble  to  think  of 
it.     My  father  will  never  consent." 

"He  shall  consent.  And  you  don't  even  need  his  con- 
sent.    You  are  of  age." 

"Then  take  mc  now,  dear  h*cart,      I  am  yours  —  your 

413 


DREAM EES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

creature,  your  thing.  Fly  away  with  me,  my  beautiful 
eagle,  to  Paris,  to  Egypt,  where  you  Avill.  Let  us  be  happy 
Bohemians.  We  do  not  need  the  world.  We  have  our- 
selves, and  the  moonlight,  and  the  mountains." 

She  was  maddening  to-night,  his  enfant  du  (liable.  But 
he  kept  a  last  desperate  grip  upon  his  common  sense.  What 
would  his  friends  say  if  he  involved  Helene  in  the  scandal 
of  an  elopement  ?  AVhat  would  HolthoS  say,  what  Baron 
Korff  ?  Surely  this  was  not  the  conduct  that  would  com- 
mend itself  to  the  chivalry  and  nobility  of  Berlin  !  And 
besides,  how  could  his  political  career  survive  a  new  scan- 
dal ?  He  was  already  sufficiently  hampered  by  his  old  con- 
nection with  the  Countess,  and  not  even  a  public  acquittal 
and  twenty  years  had  sufficed  to  lay  that  accusation  of  in- 
stigating the  stealing  of  a  casket  of  papers  from  her  hus- 
band's mistress,  which  was  perhaps  the  worst  legacy  of  the 
great  Hatzfeldt  case.  No,  he  must  win  his  bride  honor- 
ably :  the  sanctities  and  dignities  of  wedlock  were  seductive 
to  the  Bohemian  in  love. 

"  We  shall  have  ourselves  and  the  world,  too,"  he  urged 
gently.  ''  Let  us  enter  our  realm  with  the  six  white  horses, 
not  in  a  coach  with  drawn  blinds.  Your  fatlier  shall  give 
you  to  me,  I  tell  you,  in  the  eye  of  day.  AVhat,  am  I  an 
advertisement  canvasser  to  be  shown  the  door  ?  Shall  my 
darling  not  have  as  honorable  nuptials  as  her  father's  wife. 
Shall  the  Elect  of  the  People  confess  that  a  petty  diploma- 
tist didn't  consider  him  good  enough  for  a  son  -  in  -  law  ? 
Think  how  Bismarck  would  chuckle.  After  all  I  have  said 
to  him  !'' 

Her  confidence  came  back.  Yes,  one  might  build  one's 
house  on  the  rock  of  such  a  Will  I  ''  What  have  you  said 
to  him  ?" 

He  laughed  softly.     *'  I've  let  slip  a  secret,  little  girl." 

'*  Tell  me." 

414 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

"  Incredible  !  That  baby  with  her  little  fingers/' — he 
seized  them — "  with  her  fairy  paws,  she  plunges  boldly  into 
my  most  precious  secrets,  into  my  heart's  casket,  picks  out 
the  costliest  jewel,  and  asks  for  it." 

''Well,  do  you  like  him  ?     Is  he  an  intellectual  spirit  ?" 

"■  Hum  !  If  he  is,  we  are  not.  He  is  iron,  and  of  iron 
we  make  steel,  and  of  steel  pretty  weapons ;  but  one  can 
make  nothing  but  weapons.  I  prefer  gold.  Gold  like  my 
darling's  hair"  —  he  caressed  it— "like  my  own  magic 
power  over  men.  You  shall  see,  darling,  how  your  gold 
and  mine  will  triumph." 

"  But  you  also  are  always  speaking  of  arms,  of  blood,  of 
battles  ;  and  Revolutions  are  scarcely  forged  Avithout  arms 
and  iron." 

"  Child,  child,"  he  answered,  drawing  her  golden  locks 
to  his  lips,  ''why  do  you  wish  to  learn  all  in  this  beautiful 
starry  night  ?  The  conquests  of  thousands  of  years,  the 
results  of  profound  studies,  you  ask  for  as  for  toys.  To 
speak  of  battles,  to  call  to  arms,  is  by  no  means  the  same 
thing  as  to  sabre  one's  fellow,  one's  brother,  with  icy  heart 
and  bloodstained  hand.  Don't  you  understand,  sly  little 
thing,  of  what  arms  I  speak,  of  the  golden  weapons  of  the 
spirit,  eloquence,  the  love  of  humanity,  the  elfort  to  raise 
to  manly  dignity  the  poor,  the  unfortunate,  the  workers. 
Above  all,  I  mean  —  Will.  These  noble  weajDons,  these 
truly  golden  weapons,  I  count  higher  and  more  useful  than 
the  rusted  swords  of  Mediaevalism." 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  felt  lierself  upborne  on 
Avaves  of  religious  emotion  towards  those  shining  stars.  The 
temptation  was  over. 

"  Good-night,  my  love,"  she  said  humbly. 

Ho  drew  her  face  to  his  in  passionate  farewell,  and 
seemed  as  if  he  would  never  let  her  go.  When  her  win- 
dow closed  he  strode  towards  the  glaciers. 

415 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

An  adventure  next  day  came  to  show  the  conquered 
Helene  that  her  spiritual  giant  was  no  less  king  of  men 
physically.  At  the  American  Consul's  dinner  an  expedi- 
tion on  the  Niessen  had  been  arranged.  But  as  the  party 
was  returning  at  nightfall  across  the  fields,  and  laughing 
over  Lassalle's  sprightly  anecdotes,  suddenly  a  dozen  dia- 
bolical gnomes  burst  upon  them  with  savage  roars  and  in- 
comprehensible inarticulate  jabberings,  and  began  striking 
at  hazard  with  their  short,  solid  cudgels,  almost  ere  the 
startled  picnickers  could  recognize  in  these  bestial  creat- 
ures, with  their  enormously  swollen  heads  and  horrible 
hanging  goitres,  the  afflicted  idiot  peasants  of  the  valley. 
The  gallant  Frenchman  and  the  honey- tongued  Italian 
screamed  with  the  women,  and  made  even  less  play  with 
umbrellas  and  straps  ;  but  Lassalle  fell  like  a  thunderbolt 
with  his  Robespierre  stick  upon  the  whole  band  of  cretins, 
and  reduced  them  to  howls  and  bloodstained  tears.  It  was 
only  then  that  Lassalle  was  able  to  extract  from  them  that 
the  party  had  trampled  over  the  hay  in  their  fields,  and 
that  they  demanded  compensation.  Being  given  money, 
they  departed,  growling  and  waving  their  cudgels.  When 
the  excursionists  looked  at  one  another  they  found  them- 
selves all  in  rags,  and  Lassalle's  face  disfigured  by  two 
heavy  blows.     Helene  ran  to  him  with  a  cry. 

*'You  are  wounded,  bruised  I" 

"'No,  only  one  of  the  towers  of  the  Bastille,"  he  said, 
ruefully  surveying  the  stick  ;  ''the  brutes  have  dinted  it." 

"And  there  are  people  who  call  him  coward  because  he 
won't  fight  duels,"  thought  Helene  adoringly. 


THE    PEOPLE\S    SAVIOUK 


XIII 

The  drama  shifted  to  Geneva,  where  heroine  preceded 
hero  by  a  few  hours,  charged  to  be  silent  till  her  parents 
had  personally  experienced  Lassalle's  fascinations.  He 
had  scarcely  taken  possession  of  his  room  in  the  Pension 
Bovet  when  a  maidservant  brought  in  a  letter  from  Helene, 
and  ere  he  had  time  to  do  more  than  break  the  envelope, 
Helene  herself  burst  in. 

"  Take  me  away,  take  me  away,''  she  cried  hysterically. 

He  flew  to  support  her. 

''What  has  hapj)ened  ?" 

"  I  cannot  bear  it.  I  cannot  fight  them.  Save  me,  my 
king,  my  master.  Let  us  fly  across  the  frontier — to  Paris." 
She  clung  to  him  wildly. 

Sternness  gathered  on  his  brow. 

*'  Then  you  have  disobeyed  me  I"  he  said.     "Why?" 

"  I  have  written  you,"  she  sobbed. 

He  laid  her  gently  on  the  bed,  and  ran  his  eye  through 
the  long,  hysteric  letter. 

Unhappy  coincidence  !  At  Helene's  arrival,  her  whole 
family  had  met  her  joyously  at  the  railway  station,  over- 
brimming with  the  happy  news  that  her  little  sister,  Mar- 
guerite, had  just  been  proposed  to  by  Count  Kayserling, 

Helene  had  thought  this  a  heaven-sent  opportunity  of 
breaking  her  own  happiness  to  her  radiant  mother,  foolishly 
forgetting  that  the  Count  Kayserling  would  be  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  endure  a  Jew  and  a  demagogue  as  a 
brother-in-law.  Terrible  scenes  had  followed — the  mother's 
tears,  the  father's  thunders,  the  general  family  wail  and 
suj^plication,  sisters  trembling  for  their  prospects,  brothers 
anticipating  the  sneers  of  club  -  land.  What !  exchange 
Prince  Janko  for  a  thief  I 

2d  417 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Cross-examined  by  Lassalle,  Ilelene  admitted  her  mother 
was  not  so  furious  as  her  father,  and  liad  even,  weeping  on 
her  bosom,  promised  to  try  and  smooth  the  Baron  down. 
But  she  knew  that  was  impossible — her  father  considered 
nothing  but  his  egoistic  phms.  And  so,  Avhen  the  din- 
ner-bell was  sounding,  informed  with  a  mad  courage  by 
the  thought  of  her  hero's  proximity,  she  had  flown  to 
him. 

Lassalle  felt  that  the  test-moment  of  his  life  had  come, 
and  the  man  of  action  must  rise  to  it.  He  scribbled  three 
telegrams — one  to  his  mother,  one  to  his  sister,  Fran  Fried- 
land,  and  one  to  the  Countess,  asking  all  to  come  at 
once. 

*'You  must  have  a  chaperon,"  he  interjected.  ''And 
till  one  of  the  three  arrives,  who  is  there  here  ?" 

She  sobbed  out  the  address  of  Madame  Rognon.  Lassalle 
opened  the  door  to  hand  over  the  telegrams,  and  saw  the 
woman  who  had  brought  Helene's  letter  lingering  uneasily, 
and  he  had  the  unhappiest  yet  not  least  characteristic  in- 
spiration of  his  life.  ''These  to  the  telegraph  oflEice,"  he 
said  aloud,  and  in  a  whisper  :  "  Tell  the  Baroness  von  Don- 
niges  that  we  shall  be  at  Madame  Rognon's." 

For,  with  lightning  rapidity,  his  brain  had  worked  out  a 
subtle  piece  of  heroic  comedy.  He  would  restore  Helene 
to  her  mother,  he  would  play  the  grand  seigneur,  the  spot- 
less Ba3'ard,  he,  the  Jew,  the  thief,  the  demagogue,  the 
Don  Juan  ;  his  chivalry  would  shame  this  little  diplomatist. 
In  no  case  could  they  refuse  him  the  girl,  she  was  too  hope- 
lessly compromised.  All  the  Pension  had  seen  her — the 
mother  would  be  shrewd  enough  to  understand  that.  She 
must  allow  the  renunciation  to  remain  merely  verbal,  but 
the  words  would  sound  how  magnificent ! 

The  scene  was  duly  played.  The  bewildered  Helene, 
whom  he  left  in  the  dark,  confused  by  the  unexpected  ap- 

418 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

pearance  of  her  mother,  was  thrown  into  the  last  stage  of 
dazed  distress  by  being  recklessly  restored  to  the  maternal 
bosom.  He  kissed  her  good-bye,  and  she  vanished  from 
his  sisfht  for  ever. 


XIV 

For  he  had  reckoned  without  his  Janko,  always  at  hand 
to  cover  up  a  scandal.  The  Will  he  had  breathed  into 
Helene  had  been  exhausted  in  the  one  supreme  effort  of 
her  life.  Sucked  up  again  into  the  family  egotism,  kept 
for  weeks  under  a  regime  of  terror  and  intercepted  letters, 
hurried  away  from  Geneva  ;  chagrined  and  outraged,  too, 
by  her  lover's  incomprehensible  repudiation  of  her,  which 
only  success  could  have  excused,  and  which  therefore  be- 
came more  unpardonable  as  day  followed  day  without  res- 
cue from  a  giant,  proved  merely  windbag  ;  she  fell  back 
with  compunction  into  the  tender  keeping  of  the  ever-wait- 
ing Janko.  The  one  letter  her  father  permitted  her  to  send 
formally  announced  her  eternal  love  and  devotion  for  her 
former  fiance.  Profitless  to  tell  the  story  of  how  the  strick- 
en giant,  raving  in  outer  darkness,  this  Polyphemus  who 
had  gouged  out  his  own  eye,  this  Hercules  self-invested  in 
the  poisoned  robe  of  Nessus,  moved  heaven  and  earth  to 
see  her  again.  It  was  an  earthquake,  a  tornado,  a  night- 
mare. He  had  frenzies  of  tears,  his  nights  Avere  sleepless 
reviews  of  his  folly  in  throwing  her  away,  and  vain  phan- 
tasms of  her  eyes  and  lips.  He  poured  out  torrents  of  tele- 
grams and  letters,  in  which  cries  of  torture  mingled  with 
minute  legal  instructions.  The  correspondence  of  the 
"Working-Men's  Union  alone  was  neglected.  He  pressed 
everybody  and  anybody  into  his  feverish  service  —  musi- 
cians, artists,  soldiers,  antiquarians,  aristocrats.  Would  not 
Wagner  induce  the  King  of  Bavaria  to  speak  to  von  Don- 

419 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

niges  ?  Would  not  the  Catliolic  Bishop  Ketteler  help  him  ? 
— he  would  become  a  Catholic.  And  ever  present  an  in- 
sane belief  in  the  reality  of  her  faithlessness,  mockingly 
accompanied  by  a  terribly  lucid  recognition  of  the  insta- 
bility of  character  that  made  it  certain.  The  "  No" — her 
first  word  to  him  at  their  first  meeting — resounded  in  his 
ears,  prophetically  ominous.  The  sunrise,  hidden  by  rain 
and  mist,  added  its  symbolic  gloom.  But  he  felt  her  lips 
on  his  in  the  marvellous  moonlight ;  a  thousand  times  she 
clung  to  him  crying,  "  Take  me  away  I"  And  now  she 
was  to  be  another's.  She  refused  even  to  see  him.  In- 
credible !  Monstrous  !  If  he  could  only  get  an  interview 
with  her  face  to  face.  Then  they  would  see  if  she  was  re- 
sisting him  of  her  own  free  will  or  under  pressure  illegal 
for  an  adult.  It  Avas  impossible  his  will-power  over  her 
should  fail. 

Helene  evidently  thought  so  too.  By  fair  means  and 
foul,  by  spies  and  lawyers  and  friendly  agents,  Lassalle's 
frenzied  energy  had  penetrated  through  every  defence  to 
the  inmost  entrenchment  where  she  sat  cowering.  He  had 
exacted  the  father's  consent  to  an  interview.  Only  Helene's 
own  consent  was  wanting.  His  friend  Colonel  Rustow 
brought  the  sick  Hercules  the  account  of  her  refusal — a  re- 
fusal which  made  ridiculous  his  moving  of  mountains. 

"  But  surely  you  owe  Lassalle  some  satisfaction,"  he  had 
protested. 

"  To  what  ?     To  his  wounded  vanity  ?" 

It  was  the  last  straw. 

"  Harlot  !"  cried  Lassalle,  and  as  in  a  volcanic  jet,  hurled 
her  from  his  burning  heart. 

A  terrible  calm  settled  upon  him.  It  was  as  if  fire 
should  become  ice.  Yes,  he  understood  at  last  what  Des- 
tiny had  always  been  trying  to  tell  him — that  love  and  hap- 
piness were  not  for   him.     He    was    consecrate    to   great 

420 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUK 

causes.  His  Will,  entangled  with  that  of  others,  grew  fee- 
ble, fruitless.  Women  were  truly  enfants  du  diable.  He 
had  been  within  an  ace  of  abandoning  his  historical  mis- 
sion. Now  he  Avould  arise,  strong,  sublime :  a  mighty  weap- 
on forged  by  the  gods,  and  tempered  by  fire  and  tears. 

Only,  one  thing  must  first  be  done.  The  past  must  be 
wiped  off.  He  must  recommence  with  a  clean  sheet. 
True,  he  had  always  refused  duels.  But  now  he  saw  the 
fineness,  the  necessity  of  them.  In  a  world  of  chicanery 
and  treachery  the  sword  alone  cut  clean. 

He  sent  a  challenge  to  the  father,  a  message  of  good- 
will to  the  lover.  But  it  was  Jauko  who  took  up  the  chal- 
lenge. 

The  weapon  chosen  was  the  pistol. 

Lassalle's  friends  begged  him  to  practise. 

**  Useless  !    I  know  what  is  destined." 

Never  had  he  been  so  colossal,  so  assured.  His  nerves 
seemed  to  have  regained  their  tone.  The  night  before  the 
duel  he  slept  like  a  tranquil  child. 

In  the  early  morn,  on  the  way  to  the  field  outside  Ge- 
neva, he  begged  his  second  to  arrange  the  duel  on  the 
French  side  of  the  frontier,  so  that  he  might  remain  in 
Geneva  and  settle  his  account  with  the  father.  At  the 
word  of  command,  "  One  !"  Janko's  shot  rang  out.  Las- 
salle's was  not  a  second  later,  but  he  had  already  received 
his  death-wound. 

lie  lay  three  days,  dying  in  terrible  agony,  relieved  only 
by  copious  opium.  Between  the  spasms,  surprise  possessed 
liis  mind  that  his  Will  should  have  counted  for  nothing 
before  the  imperturbable  march  of  the  universe.  ''There 
will  never  be  Justice  for  the  People,"  he  thought  bitterly. 
"  I  was  a  dreamer.  Heine  was  right.  A  mad  world,  my 
masters."  But  sometimes  he  had  a  gleam  of  suspicion  that 
it  was  he  that  had  lacked  sanity.     His  Will  had  become 

421 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

mere  wilfulness.  In  his  love  as  in  his  crusade  he  had  shut 
his  eyes  to  the  brute  facts  ;  had  precipitated  what  could 
only  be  coaxed.  "I  die  by  my  own  hand,"  he  said.  H  he 
had  only  married  Kosalie  Zander,  who  still  lived  on,  loving 
him !  These  Russian  and  Bavarian  minxes  were  neurotic, 
fickle,  shifting  as  sand  ;  the  daughters  of  Judasa  were 
sane,  cheerful,  solid.  Then  he  thought  of  his  own  sister 
married  to  that  vulgarian,  Friedland.  He  saw  her,  a  rosy- 
cheeked  girl,  sitting  at  the  Passover  table,  with  its  pictu- 
resque ritual.  How  happy  were  those  far-off  pious  days  ! 
And  then  he  felt  a  cold  wind,  remembering  how  Riekchen 
had  hidden  her  face  to  laugh  at  these  mediaeval  mummeries, 
and  to  spit  out  the  bitter  herbs,  so  meaningless  to  her. 

0  terrible  tragi-comedy  of  life,  O  strange,  tangled  world, 
in  which  poor,  petty  man  must  walk,  tripped  by  endless 
coils — religion,  race,  sex,  custom,  wealth,  poverty  I  World 
that  from  boyhood  he  had  seemed  to  see  stretching  so 
clearly  before  him,  to  be  mapped  out  with  lucid  logic,  to 
be  bestridden  with  triumphant  foot  by  men  become  as  gods, 
knowing  good  and  evil. 

Only  one  thing  was  left — to  die  unbroken. 

He  had  his  lawyer  brought  to  his  bedside,  went  through 
his  last  testament  again,  left  money  for  the  Union,  recom- 
mended it  to  the  workers  as  their  one  sure  path  of  salva- 
tion. Moses  had  only  been  permitted  to  gaze  upon  the 
Promised  Land,  but  the  Chosen  People  —  the  Germans — 
should  yet  luxuriate  in  its  milk  and  honey. 

A  month  after  his  meeting  with  Heleue  on  the  Righi — a 
month  after  his  glad  shout,  "  By  all  the  gods  of  Greece,  'tis 
she  !" — he  was  a  corpse,  the  magic  voice  silent  for  ever ; 
while  the  woman  he  had  sought  was  to  give  herself  to  his 
slayer,  and  the  movement  he  had  all  but  abandoned  for  her 
was  to  become  a  great  power  in  the  State,  under  the  ever- 
growing glamour  of  his  memory. 

423 


THE    PEOPLE'S    SAVIOUR 

The  Countess  bent  over  the  body.  A  strange,  grim  joy 
mingled  with  her  rage  and  despair.  None  of  all  these 
women  had  the  right  to  sliare  in  her  grief.  He  belonged  to 
her — to  her  and  the  People.  Yes,  she  would  bear  the  body 
of  her  clier  enfant  through  the  provinces  of  the  Rhine — he 
had  been  murdered  by  a  cunning  political  plot,  the  People 
who  loved  him  should  rise  and  avenge  their  martyred 
Messiah. 

And  suddenly  she  remembered  with  a  fresh  pang  the  one 
woman  who  had  a  right  to  share  her  grief,  nay,  to  call  him 
— in  no  figurative  sense — '^enfant  ";  the  wrinkled  old  Jew- 
ess, palsied  and  deaf  and  peevish,  who  lived  on  in  a  world 
despoiled  of  his  splendid  fighting  strength,  of  his  superb 
fore-visionings. 


THE    PKIMROSE    SPHINX 


In  the  choir  of  the  old-fashioned  church  of  Hughenden, 
that  broods  amid  the  beautiful  peace  of  English  meadows, 
there  stands,  on  the  left  hand  of  the  aisle,  a  black  high- 
backed  stall  of  polished  oak,  overhung  by  the  picturesque 
insignia  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter. 

In  the  pavement  behind  it  gleams  a  square  slab,  dedi- 
cated by  "  his  grateful  sovereign  and  friend ''  to  her  great 
Prime  Minister,  and  heaped  in  the  spring  with  primroses. 

And  on  this  white  memorial  is  sculptured  in  bas-relief 
the  profile  of  the  head  of  a  Semitic  Sphinx,  round  whose 
mute  lips  flickers  in  a  faint  sardonic  smile  the  wisdom  of 
the  ages. 

II 

I  SEE  him,  methinks,  in  life,  Premier  of  England,  Lord 
Privy  Seal,  Earl  Beaconsfield  of  Beaconsfield,  Viscount 
Hughenden  of  Hughenden,  sitting  in  his  knightly  stall, 
listening  impassibly  to  the  country  parson's  sermon.  His 
head  droops  on  his  breast,  but  his  coal-black  inscrutable 
eyes  are  open. 

It  is  the  hour  of  his  star. 

He  is  just   back   from   the   Berlin   Congress,  bringing 

424 


THE    PRIMKOSE    SPHINX 

"Peace  with  Honor."  The  Continent  lias  stood  a-tiptoe 
to  see  the  Avonderful  English  Earl  pass  and  repass.  He 
has  been  the  lion  of  a  congress  that  included  Bismarck. 
The  lanrels  and  the  Oriental  palm  placed  by  his  landlord 
on  the  hotel-balcony  have  but  faintly  typified  the  feeling 
of  Europe.  His  feverous  reception  in  England,  from 
Dover  pier  onwards,  has  recalled  an  earlier,  a  more  roman- 
tic world.  Fathers  have  brought  their  little  ones  to  im- 
print upon  their  memories  the  mortal  features  of  this  im- 
mortal figure,  who  passes  through  a  rain  of  flowers  to  his 
throne  in  Downing  Street.  The  London  press,  with  scarce 
an  exception,  is  in  the  dust  at  his  feet — with  the  proud 
English  nobles  and  all  that  has  ever  flouted  or  assailed 
him. 

The  sunshine  comes  floridly  through  the  stained-glass 
windows,  and  lies  upon  the  austere  crucifix. 


Ill 

By  what  devious  ways  has  he  wandered  hither — from 
that  warm  old  Portuguese  synagogue  in  Bevis  Marks, 
whence  his  father  withdrew  under  the  smart  of  a  fine 
from  "the  gentlemen  of  the  Mahamad  ?" 

But  hark  I  The  parson — as  paradoxically — is  reading  a 
Jewish  psalm. 

"  '  The  Lord  said  unto  my  lord:  Sit  thou  on  my  right  hand, 

until  I  make  thine  enemies  thy  footstool. 
The  Lord  ahall  send  the  rod  of  thy  poicer  out  of  Zion:  be 

thou  ruler  in  t/ie  midst  of  thine  enemies. 
In  the  day  of  thy  jMicer  shall  the  people  offer  thee  freewill 

offerings  with  a  holy  worship:  the  dew  of  thy  birth  is  of 

the  icomb  of  the  morning.'  " 

The  Earl  remains  impassive. 

425 


DKEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

''Half  Christendom  worships  a  Jewess,  and  the  other 
half  a  Jew." 
Whom  does  he  worship  ? 
"Sensible  men  never  tell/' 


IV 

Yet  in  that  facial  mask  I  seem  to  read  all  the  tale  of  the 
long  years  of  desperate  waiting,  only  half  sweetened  by 
premature  triumphs  of  pen  and  j^erson  ;  all  the  rancorous 
energies  of  political  strife. 

And  as  I  gaze,  a  sense  of  something  shoddy  oppresses 
me,  of  tinsel  and  glitter  and  flamboyance  :  a  feeling  that 
here  is  no  true  greatness,  no  sphinx-like  sublimity.  A 
shadow  of  the  world  and  the  flesh  falls  across  the  brooding 
figure,  a  Napoleonic  vulgarity  coarsens  the  features,  there 
is  a  Mej)histophelian  wrinkle  in  the  corner  of  the  lips. 

I  think  of  his  books,  of  his  grandiose  style,  gorgeous 
as  his  early  Avaistcoats  and  gold  chains,  the  prose  often 
made  up  of  bad  blank  verse,  leavings  from  his  long  cox- 
combical strain  to  be  a  poet ;  of  his  false-sublime  and  his 
false  -  romantic,  of  his  rococo  personages,  monotonously 
magnificent ;  of  his  pseudo-Jewish  stories,  and  his  braggart 
assertions  of  blood,  played  off  against  the  insulting  pride  of 
the  proudest  aristocracy  in  the  world,  and  combined  with 
a  politic  perseverance  to  be  more  English  than  the  Eng- 
lish ;  of  his  naive  delight  in  fine  clothes  and  fine  dishes 
and  fine  company ;  of  his  nice  conduct  of  a  morning  and 
evening  cane  ;  of  his  morbid  self-consciousness  of  his  gifts 
and  his  genius  ;  of  his  unscrupulous  chase  of  personal 
success  and  of  Fame — that  shadow  which  great  souls  cast, 
and  little  souls  pursue  as  substance ;  of  his  scrupulous 
personal  rejection  of  Love — Love,  the  one  touch  of  true 

426 


THE    PEIMROSE    SPHINX 

romance  in  his  novels — and  his  pecuniary  marriage  for  his 
career's  sake,  after  the  manner  of  his  tribe ;  of  his  roman- 
esque  conception  of  the  Britisli  aristocracy,  Avhich  he  yet 
dominates,  because  he  is  not  really  rooted  in  the  social 
conceptions  which  give  it  its  prestige,  and  so  is  able  to 
manoeuvre  it  artistically  from  without,  intellect  detached 
from  emotion  :  to  play  English  politics  like  a  game  of 
chess,  moving  proud  peers  like  pawns,  with  especial  skill 
in  handling  his  Queen ;  his  very  imperturbability  under 
attack,  only  the  mediseval  Jew's  self-mastery  before  tlie 
grosser-brained  persecutor. 

I  think  these  things  and  the  Sphinx  yields  up  his  secret 
— the  open  secret  of  the  Ghetto  parvenu. 


But  as  I  look  again  upon  his  strange  Eastern  face,  so 
deep-lined,  so  haggard,  something  subtler  and  finer  calls  to 
me  from  the  ruins  of  its  melancholy  beauty. 

Into  this  heavy  English  atmosphere  he  brings  not  only 
the  shimmer  of  ideas  and  wit,  but — a  Heine  of  action — the 
fantasy  of  personal  adventure,  and  —  when  audacity  has 
been  crowned  by  empery — of  dramatic  surprises  of  policy. 
A  successful  Lassalle,  he  flutters  the  stagnant  castes  of 
aristocracy  by  the  supremacy  of  the  individual  Will. 

To  a  country  that  lumbers  on  from  precedent  to  prece- 
dent, and  owes  its  very  constitution  to  the  pinch  of  2)rac- 
tical  exigencies,  he  brings  the  Jew's  unifying  sweep  of  idea. 
First,  he  is  the  encourager  of  the  Young  England  party, 
for,  conceiving  himself  child  of  a  race  of  aristocrats  Avhose 
mission  is  to  civilize  the  world,  he  feels  the  duty  of  guid- 
ance to  which  these  young  English  squires  and  nobles  are 
born.     The  bourgeois  he  hates — only  the  pomp  of  sover- 

427 


DEEAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

eignty  and  the  pathos  of  poverty  move  his  soul;  his  life- 
long dream  is  of  a  Tory  democracy,  wherein  the  nobles 
shall  make  happy  the  People  that  is  exploited  by  the 
middle  classes.  Product  of  a  theocratic  state,  where  the 
rich  and  the  poor  are  united  in  God,  he  is  shocked  by 
**'  the  Two  Nations  "  into  which,  by  the  gradual  break-up 
of  the  feudal  world,  this  England  is  split.  The  cry  of  the 
Chartists  does  not  leave  him  cold.  He  is  one  in  revolt 
with  Byron  and  Shelley  against  a  Philistine  world.  And 
later,  to  a  mighty  empire  that  has  grown  fortuitously, 
piecemeal,  by  the  individual  struggles  of  independent  pio- 
neers or  isolated  filibusters,  he  gives  a  unifying  soul,  a 
spirit,  a  mission.  He  perceives  with  Heine  that  as  Puritan 
Britain  is  already  the  heir  of  ancient  Palestine,'  and  its 
State  Church  only  the  guardian  of  the  Semitic  jDrinciple, 
popularized,  so  is  it  by  its  moral  and  physical  energy,  the 
destined  executant  of  the  ideals  of  Zion  ;  that  it  is  plant- 
ing the  Law  like  a  great  shady  tree  in  the  tropic  deserts 
and  arid  wastes  of  barbarism.  That  grandeur  and  romance 
of  their  empire,  of  which  the  English  of  his  day  are  only 
dimly  aware,  because  like  their  constitution  it  has  evolved 
without  a  conscious  principle,  he,  the  outsider,  sees.  He  M 
is  caught  by  the  fascination  of  its  vastness,  of  its  magnifi-  ■ 
cent  jiossibilities.  And  in  very  deed  he  binds  England 
closer  to  her  colonies,  and  restores  her  dwindled  prestige 
in  the  Parliament  of  Nations.  He  even  proclaims  her  an 
Asiatic  power. 

For  his  heart  is  always  with  his  own  people — its  past 
glories,  its  persistent  ubiquitous  potency,  despite  ubiqui- 
tous persecution.  He  sees  himself  the  appointed  scion  of 
a  Chosen  Pace,  the  only  race  to  which  God  has  ever  spoken, 
and  perhaps  the  charm  of  acquired  Cyprus  is  its  jn-opin- 
quity  to  Palestine,  the  only  soil  on  which  God  has  ever 
deigned  to  reveal  Himself. 

428 


THE    PRIMEOSE    SPHINX 

And,  like  his  race,  he  has  links  with  all  the  human 
panorama. 

He  is  in  touch  with  the  humors  and  graces  of  European 
courts  and  cities,  has  rapport  with  the  rich-dyed,  unchang- 
ing, double-dealing  East,  enjoys  the  picaresque  life  of  the 
Spanish  mountains  :  he  feels  the  tragedy  of  vanished  Rome, 
the  marble  appeal  of  ancient  Athens,  the  mystery  of  the 
Pyramids,  the  futility  of  life  ;  his  books  palpitate  Avith 
world-problems. 

And,  as  I  think  these  things,  his  face  is  transfigured  and 
he  becomes — beneath  all  his  dazzle  of  deed — a  Dreamer  of 
the  Ghetto. 

VI 

So  think  I.     But  what — as  the  country  parson's  sermon 

drones  on — thinks  the  Sphinx  ? 
Who  shall  tell  ? 


DEEAMEES    IN    CONGEESS 


"By  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  there  we  sat  down  ;  yea,  we 
wept,  when  we  remembered  Zion/'  By  the  river  of  Bale 
we  sit  down,  resolved  to  Aveep  no  more.  Not  the  German 
Rhine,  but  the  Rhine  ere  it  leaves  the  land  of  liberty; 
where,  sunning  itself  in  a  glory  of  blue  sky  and  white 
cloud,  and  overbrooded  by  the  eternal  mountains  ;  it  swirls 
its  fresh  green  waves  and  hurries  its  laden  rafts  betwixt 
the  quaint  old  houses  and  dreaming  spires,  and  under  the 
busy  bridges  of  the  Golden  Gate  of  Switzerland. 

In  the  shady  courtyard  of  the  Town  Hall  are  sundry 
frescoes  testifying  to  the  predominant  impress  on  the  minds 
of  its  citizens  of  the  life  and  thoughts  of  a  little  people 
that  flourished  between  two  and  three  thousand  years  ago 
in  the  highlands  of  Asia  Minor.  But,  amid  these  sugges- 
tive illustrations  of  ancient  Jewish  history,  the  strangest 
surely  is  that  of  Moses  with  a  Table  of  the  Law,  on  wliich 
are  written  the  words  :  "  Who  brought  thee  out  of  the 
land  of  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of  bondage.'' 

For  here,  after  all  this  travail  of  the  centuries,  a  very 
modern  Moses — in  the  abstract-concrete  form  of  a  Con- 
gress— is  again  meditating  the  deliverance  of  Israel  from 
the  house  of  bondage. 

Not  in  the  Town  Hall,  however,  but  in  the  Casino  the 
Congress  meets,  and,  where  Swiss  sweethearts  use  to  dance, 

430 


DREAMERS    IN    CONGRESS 

are  debated  the  tragic  issues  of  an  outcast  nation.  An 
oblong  hall,  of  drab  yellow,  with  cane  chairs  neatly  parted 
in  the  middle,  and  green-baized  tables  for  reporters,  and 
a  green-baized  rostrum,  and  a  green-baized  platform,  over 
which  rise  the  heads  and  festal  shirt-fronts  of  the  leaders. 

A  strangely  assorted  set  of  leaders,  but  all  with  that  ink- 
mark  on  the  brow  which  is  as  much  on  the  Continent  the 
badge  of  action,  as  it  is  in  England  the  symbol  of  sterility ; 
all  believing  more  or  less  naively  that  the  pen  is  mightier 
than  the  millionaire's  gold. 

Only  one  of  them  hitherto  has  really  stirred  the  world 
with  his  pen-point — a  j)rophet  of  the  modern,  preaching 
"  Woe,  woe  "  by  psycho-physiology ;  in  himself  a  breezy, 
burly  undegenerate,  with  a  great  gray  head  marvellously 
crammed  with  facts  and  languages  ;  now  to  prove  himself 
golden-hearted  and  golden-mouthed,  an  orator  touching 
equally  to  tears  or  laughter.  In  striking  contrast  with 
this  quasi-Teutonic  figure  shows  the  leonine  head,  with  its 
tossing  black  mane  and  shoulders,  of  the  Russian  leader, 
Apollo  turned  Berserker,  beautiful,  overpowering,  from 
whose  resplendent  mouth  roll  in  mountain  thunder  the 
barbarous  Russian  syllables. 

And  even  as  no  two  of  the  leaders  are  alike,  so  do  the 
rank  and  file  fail  to  resemble  one  another.  Writers  and 
journalists,  poets  and  novelists  and  merchants,  professors 
and  men  of  professions — types  that  once  sought  to  slough 
their  Jewish  skins,  and  mimic,  on  Darwinian  principles, 
the  colors  of  the  environment,  but  that  now,  with  some 
tardy  sense  of  futility  or  stir  of  pride,  proclaim  their  broth- 
erhood in  Zion — they  are  come  from  many  places  ;  from  far 
lands  and  from  near,  from  uncouth,  unknown  villages  of 
Bukowina  and  the  Caucasus,  and  from  the  great  European 
capitals  ;  thickliest  from  the  pales  of  persecution,  in  rare 
units  from  the  free  realms  of  England  and  America — a 

431 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

strange  phantasmagoria  of  faces.  A  small,  sallow  Pole, 
with  high  cheek-hones  ;  a  hlond  Hungarian,  with  a  flaxen 
moustache;  a  brown,  hatchet-faced  Roumanian;  a  fresh- 
colored  Frenchman,  with  eye-glasses  ;  a  dark,  Marrano-de- 
scended  Dutchman;  a  chubby  German  ;  a  fiery-eyed  Rus- 
sian, tugging  at  his  own  hair  with  excitement,  perhaps  in 
prescience  of  the  prison  awaiting  his  return ;  a  dusky 
Egyptian,  with  the  close-cropped,  curly  black  hair,  and  all 
but  the  nose  of  a  negro  ;  a  yellow-bearded  Swede  ;  a  court- 
ly Viennese  lawyer  ;  a  German  student,  with  proud  duel- 
slashes  across  his  cheek ;  a  Viennese  student,  first  fighter 
in  the  University,  with  a  colored  band  across  his  shirt- 
front  ;  a  dandy,  smelling  of  the  best  St.  Petersburg  circles; 
and  one  solitary  caftan-Jew,  with  ear-locks  and  skull-cap, 
wafting  into  the  nineteenth  century  the  cabalistic  mysti- 
cism of  the  Carpathian  Messiah. 

Who  speaks  of  the  Jewish  type  ?  One  can  only  say  neg- 
atively that  these  faces  are  not  Christian.  Is  it  the  stamp 
of  a  longer,  more  complex  heredity  ?  Is  it  the  brand  of 
suffering  ?  Certainly  a  stern  Congress,  the  speeches  little 
lightened  by  humor,  the  atmosphere  of  historic  tragedy 
too  overbrooding  for  intellectual  dalliance.  Even  the  pres- 
ence of  the  gayer  sex — for  there  are  a  few  ladies  among  the 
delegates,  and  more  peep  down  from  the  crowded  specta- 
tors' gallery  that  runs  sideways  along  the  hall — only  makes 
a  few  shots  of  visual  brightness  in  the  sober  scene.  Seri- 
ousness is  stamped  everywhere  ;  on  the  broad-bulging  tem- 
ples of  the  Russian  oculist,  on  the  egg-shaped  skull  and 
lank  white  hair  of  the  Heidelberg  professor,  on  the  open 
countenance  of  the  Hungarian  architect,  on  the  weak,  nar- 
row lineaments  of  the  neurotic  Hebrew  poet ;  it  gives  dig- 
nity to  red  hair  and  freckles,  tones  down  the  grossness  of 
too-fleshy  cheeks,  and  lends  an  added  beauty  to  finely-cut 
features. 

433 


DKEAMERS    IN    CONGRESS 

Superficially,  then,  they  have  little  in  common,  and  if 
almost  all  speak  German — the  language  of  the  Congress — 
it  is  only  because  they  are  all  masters  of  three  or  four 
tongues.  Yet  some  subtle  instinct  links  them  each  to 
each ;  presage,  perhaps,  of  some  brotherhood  of  mankind, 
of  -which  ingathered  Israel  —  or  even  ubiquitous  Israel — 
may  present  the  type. 

Through  the  closed  red-curtained  windows  comes  ever 
and  anon  the  sharp  ting  of  the  bell  of  an  electric  car,  and 
the  President,  anxiously  steering  the  course  of  debate 
through  difficult  international  cross-roads,  rings  his  bell 
almost  as  frequently. 

A  majestic  Oriental  figure,  the  President's — not  so  tall 
as  it  appears  when  he  draws  himself  up  and  stands  domi- 
nating the  assembly  with  eyes  that  brood  and  glow — you 
would  say  one  of  the  Assyrian  Kings,  whose  sculptured 
heads  adorn  our  Museums,  the  very  profile  of  Tiglath- 
Pileser.  In  sooth,  the  beautiful  sombre  face  of  a  kingly 
dreamer,  but  of  a  Jewish  dreamer  who  faces  the  fact  that 
flowers  are  grown  in  dung.  A  Shelley  "  beats  in  the  air 
his  luminous  wings  in  vain";  our  Jewish  dreamer  dreams 
along  the  lines  of  life  ;  his  dream  but  discounts  the  fut- 
ure, his  prophecy  is  merely  fore-speaking,  his  vision  pre- 
vision. He  talks  agriculture,  viticulture,  subvention  of 
the  Ottoman  Empire,  both  by  direct  tribute  and  indirect 
enrichment  ;  stocks  and  shares,  railroads,  internal  and  to 
India  \  natural  development  under  expansion— all  the  jar- 
gon of  our  iron  age.  Let  not  his  movement  be  confounded 
with  those  petty  projects  for  lielping  Jewish  agriculturists 
into  Palestine.  What !  Improve  the  Sultan's  land  with- 
out any  political  equivalent  guaranteed  in  advance  !  Dif- 
ficulty about  the  holy  places  of  Christianity  and  Islam  ? 
Pooh  !  extra-territorial. 

A  practised  publicist,  a  trained  lawyer,  a  not  nnsuccess- 
3e  433 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

ful  comedy  writer,  converted  to  racial  self-consciousness 
by  the  ''Hep,  Hep"  of  Vienna,  and  hurried  into  unfore- 
seen action  by  his  own  paper-scheme  of  a  Jewish  State,  he 
has,  perhaps,  at  last — and  not  unreluctantly — found  him- 
self as  a  leader  of  men. 

In  a  Congress  of  impassioned  rhetoricians  he  remains 
serene,  moderate  ;  his  voice  is  for  the  more  part  subdued ; 
in  its  most  emotional  abandonments  there  is  a  dry  under- 
tone, almost  harsh.  He  quells  disorder  with  a  look,  with 
a  word,  with  a  sharp  touch  of  the  bell.  The  cloven  hoof 
of  the  Socialist  peeps  out  from  a  little  group.  At  once 
"  The  Congress  shall  be  captured  by  no  party  !"  And  the 
Congress  is  in  roars  of  satisfaction. 

"Tis  the  happy  faculty  of  all  idealists  to  overlook  the 
visible — the  price  they  pay  for  seeing  the  unseen.  Even 
our  open-eyed  Jewish  idealist  has  been  blest  with  ignorance 
of  the  actual.  But,  in  his  very  ignorance  of  the  people 
he  would  lead  and  the  country  he  would  lead  them  to,  lies 
his  strength,  just  as  in  his  admission  that  his  Zionist  fer- 
vor is  only  that  second-rate  species  produced  by  local  anti- 
Semitism,  lies  a  powerful  answer  to  the  dangerous  libel  of 
local  unpatriotism.  Of  the  real  political  and  agricultural 
conditions  of  Palestine  he  knows  only  by  hearsay.  Of  Jews 
he  knows  still  less.  Not  for  him  the  paralyzing  sense  of  the 
iiumors  of  his  race,  the  petty  feud  of  Dutchman  and  Pole, 
the  mutual  superiorities  of  Sephardi  and  Ashkenazi,  the  gro- 
tesque incompatibility  of  Western  and  Eastern  Jew,  the  cyn- 
icism and  snobbery  of  the  prosperous,  the  materialism  of  the 
uneducated  adventurers  in  unexploited  regions.  He  stands 
so  high  and  aloof  that  all  specific  colorings  and  markings 
are  blurred  for  him  into  the  common  brotherhood,  and,  if  lie 
is  cynic  enough  to  suspect  them,  he  is  philosopher  enough  to 
recognize  that  all  nations  are  compact  of  incongruites,  vital- 
ized by  warring  elements.     Nor  has  he  any  sympathetic  per- 

434 


DEEAMERS    IN    CONGRESS 

ception  of  tlie  mystic  religions  hojoes  of  generations  of  zeal- 
ots, of  the  great  swirling  spiritual  currents  of  Ghetto  life. 
But  in  a  national  movement — which  appears  at  first  sight 
hopeless,  because  it  lacks  the  great  magnetizer,  religion — lies 
a  chance  denied  to  one  who  should  boldly  proclaim  himself 
the  evangel  of  a  modern  Judaism,  the  last  of  the  Prophets. 
Political  Zionism  alone  can  transcend  and  unite  :  any  relig- 
ious formula  would  disturb  and  dissever.  Along  this  line 
may  all  travel  to  Jerusalem.  And,  as  the  locomotive  from 
Jaffa  draws  all  alike  to  the  sacred  city,  and  leaves  them 
there  to  their  several  matters,  so  may  the  pious  concern 
themselves  not  at  all  with  the  religion  of  the  engineer. 

Not  this  the  visionary  figure  created  by  the  tear-dimmed 
yearning  of  the  Ghetto  ;  no  second  Sabbatai  Zevi,  master 
of  celestial  secrets,  divine  reincarnation,  come  with  signs 
and  wonders  to  lead  back  Israel  to  the  Promised  Land. 
Still  less  the  prophet  prefigured  by  Christian  visionaries, 
some  of  whom,  fevered  nevertheless,  press  upon  the  Con- 
gress itself  complex  collations  of  texts,  or  little  cards  with 
the  sign  of  the  cross.  Palestine,  indeed,  but  an  after- 
thought :  an  aspiration  of  unsuspected  strength,  to  be  util- 
ized—  like  all  human  forces  —  by  the  maker  of  history. 
States  are  the  expression  of  souls  ;  in  any  land  the  Jewish 
soul  could  express  itself  in  characteristic  institutions,  could 
shake  off  the  long  oppression  of  the  ages,  and  renew  its 
youth  in  touch  with  the  soil.  Yet  since  there  is  this  long- 
ing for  Palestine,  let  us  make  capital  of  it — capital  that 
will  return  its  safe  percentage.  A  rush  to  Palestine  will 
mean  all  that  seething  medley  of  human  wants  and  activi- 
ties out  of  which  profits  are  snatched  by  the  shrewd — gold- 
rush  and  God-rush,  they  are  both  one  in  their  economic 
working.  May  not  the  Jews  themselves  take  shares  in  so 
promising  a  project  ?  May  not  even  their  great  bankers 
put  their  names  to  such  a  prospectus  ?     The  shareholders 

435 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

incur  no  liability  beyond  the  extent  of  their  shares  ;  there 
shall  be  no  call  upon  them  to  come  to  Palestine — let  them 
remain  in  their  snug  nests  ;  the  Jewish  Company,  Limited, 
seeks  a  home  only  for  the  desolate  dove  that  finds  no  rest 
for  the  sole  of  her  feet. 

And  yet  beneath  all  this  statesmanlike  prose,  touched 
with  the  special  dryness  of  the  jurist,  lurk  the  romance  of 
the  poet  and  the  purposeful  vagueness  of  the  modern  evo- 
lutionist ;  the  fantasy  of  the  Hungarian,  the  dramatic  self- 
consciousness  of  the  literary  artist,  the  heart  of  the  Jew. 

Is  one  less  a  poet  because  he  regards  the  laws  of  reality, 
less  religious  because  he  accepts  them,  less  a  Jew  because 
he  will  live  in  his  own  century  ?  Our  dreamer  will  have 
none  of  the  Medii^val,  is  enamoured  of  the  Modern  ;  has 
lurking  admiration  of  the  ''over-man''  of  Nietzsche,  even 
to  be  overpassed  by  the  coming  Jerusalem  Jew  ;  the  psychi- 
cal Eurasian,  the  link  and  interpreter  between  East  and 
West — nay,  between  antiquity  and  the  modern  spirit ;  the 
synthesis  of  mankind,  saturated  with  the  culture  of  the 
nations,  and  now  at  last  turning  home  again,  laden  Avith 
the  spiritual  spoils  of  the  Avorld — for  the  world's  benefit. 
He  shall  found  an  ideal  modern  state,  catholic  in  creed, 
righteous  in  law,  a  centre  of  conscience — even  geographi- 
cally— in  a  world  relapsing  to  Pagan  chaos.  And  its  flag 
shall  be  a  "shield  of  David,"  with  the  Lion  of  Judah  ram- 
pant, and  twelve  stars  for  the  Tribes.  No  more  of  the 
cringing  and  the  whispering  in  dark  corners  ;  no  surrepti- 
tious invasion  of  Palestine.  The  Jew  shall  demand  right, 
not  tolerance.  Israel  shall  walk  erect.  And  he,  Israel's 
spokesman,  will  not  juggle  with  diplomatic  combinations — 
he  will  play  cards  on  table.  He  has  nothing  to  say  to  the 
mob.  Christian  or  Jewish,  he  will  not  intrigue  with  political 
underlings.  lie  is  no  demagogue  ;  he  will  speak  with  kings 
in  their  palaces,  with  prime  ministers  in  their  cabinets. 

436 


DREAMEES    IN    CONGRESS 

There  is  a  touch  of  the  vftpiQ  of  Lassalle,  of  the  magnifi- 
cence of  Manasseh  Bueno  Barzillai  Azevedo  Da  Costa,  King 
of  the  question-beggars. 

Do  you  object  that  the  poor  will  be  the  only  ones  to  im- 
migrate to  Palestine  ?  Why,  it  is  just  those  that  we  want. 
Prithee,  how  else  shall  we  make  our  roads  and  plant  our 
trees  ?  No  mention  now  of  the  Eurasian  exemplar,  the 
synthetic  "over-man."  Perhaps  he  is  only  to  evolve.  Do 
you  suggest  that  an  inner  ennobling  of  scattered  Israel 
might  be  the  finer  goal,  the  truer  antidote  to  anti-Semit- 
ism ?  Simple  heart,  do  you  not  see  it  is  just  for  our  good 
— not  our  bad — qualities  that  we  are  persecuted  ?  A  jug- 
glery—  specious  enough  for  the  moment — with  the  word 
''good"  ;  forceful  "  struggle-for-life "  qualities  substituted 
for  spiritual,  for  ethical.  And  yet  to  doubt  that  the  world 
would — and  does — respond  sympathetically  to  the  finer  ele- 
ments so  abundantly  in  Israel,  is  it  not  to  despair  of  the 
world,  of  humanity  ?  In  such  a  world,  what  guarantee 
against  the  pillage  of  the  Third  Temple  ?  And  in  such  a 
world  were  life  worth  living  at  all  ?  And,  even  with  Pales- 
tine for  ultimate  goal,  do  you  counsel  delay,  a  nursing  of  the 
Zionist  flame,  a  gradual  education  and  preparation  of  the 
race  for  a  great  conscious  historic  rule  in  the  world's  future, 
a  forty  years'  wandering  in  the  wilderness  to  organize  or  kill 
off  the  miscellaneous  rabble — then  will  you,  dreamer,  turn 
a  deaf  ear  to  the  cry  of  millions  oppressed  to-day  ?  Would 
you  ignore  the  appeals  of  these  hundreds  of  telegrams,  of 
these  thousands  of  petitions  with  myriads  of  signatures, 
for  the  sake  of  some  visionary  perfection  of  to-morrow  ? 
Nay,  nay,  the  cartoon  of  the  Congress  shall  bring  itself  to 
pass.  Against  the  picturesque  wallers  at  the  ruins  of  the 
Temple  wall  shall  be  set  the  no  less  picturesque  peasants 
sowing  the  seed,  whose  harvest  is  at  once  waving  grain  and 
a  regenerated  Israel.      The  stains  of  sordid  traffic  shall  be 

437 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

cleansed  by  the  dews  and  the  rains.  In  the  Jewish  peasant 
behokl  the  ideal  plebeian  of  the  future ;  a  son  of  the  soil, 
yet  also  a  son  of  the  spirit.  And  what  fair  floriage  of  art 
and  literature  may  not  the  world  gain  from  this  great  puri- 
fied nation,  carrying  in  its  bosom  the  experience  of  the  ages  ? 

Not  all  his  own  ideas,  these  ;  some  perhaps  only  half- 
consciously  present  to  him,  so  that  even  in  this  very  Con- 
gress the  note  of  jealousy  is  heard,  the  claim  of  an  earlier 
i^rophet  insisted  on  fiercely.  For  a  moment  the  dignified 
assembly  becomes  a  prey  to  atavism,  reproduces  the  sordid 
squabbles  of  the  Kahal.  As  if  every  movement  was  not 
fed  by  subterranean  fires,  heralded  by  obscure  rumblings, 
though  'tis  only  the  earthquake  or  the  volcanic  jet  Avhicli 
leaps  into  history  ! 

But  the  President  is  finely  impersonal.  Not  he,  but  the 
Congress.  The  Bulgarians  have  a  tradition  that  the  Mes- 
siah will  be  born  on  August  29.  He  shares  this  belief. 
To-day  the  Messiah  has  been  born  —  the  Congress.  "In 
this  Congress  we  procure  for  the  Jewish  people  an  organ 
which  till  now  it  did  not  possess,  and  of  which  it  was  so 
sadly  in  want.  Our  cause  is  too  great  for  the  ambition  and 
wilfulness  of  a  single  person.  It  must  be  lifted  up  to  some- 
thing impersonal  if  it  is  to  succeed.  And  our  Congress 
shall  be  lasting,  not  only  until  we  are  redeemed  from  the 
old  state,  but  still  more  so  afterwards  .  .  .  serious  and  lofty, 
a  blessing  for  the  unfortunate,  noxious  to  none,  to  the 
honor  of  all  Jews,  and  worthy  of  a  past,  the  glory  of  which 
is  far  off,  but  everlasting." 

And,  as  he  steps  from  the  tribune,  amid  the  roar  of 
*'IIochs,'''  and  the  thunder  of  hands  and  feet  and  sticks, 
and  the  flutter  of  handkerchiefs,  with  men  precipitating 
themselves  to  kiss  his  hand,  and  others  weeping  and  embrac- 
ing, be  sure  that  no  private  ambition  possesses  him,  be  sure 
that  his  heart  swells  only  with  the  presentiment  of  great 

438 


DREAMEKS    IN    CONGRESS 

events  and  with  uplifting  thoughts  of  the  millions  who  will 
thrill  to  the  distant  echo  of  this  sublime  moment. 

What  European  parliament  could  glow  with  such  a  galaxy 
of  intellect  ?  Is  not  each  man  a  born  orator,  master  of  arts 
or  sciences  ?  Has  not  the  very  caftan-Jew  from  the  Carpa- 
thians published  his  poetry  and  his  philosophy,  gallantly 
championing  ''The  Master  of  the  Name "  against  a  Dar- 
winian world  ?  Heine  had  figured  tlie  Jew  as  a  dog,  that 
at  the  advent  of  the  Princess  Sabbath  is  changed  back  to  a 
man.  More  potent  than  the  Princess,  the  Congress  has 
shown  the  Jew's  manhood  to  the  world.  That  old  painter, 
whose  famous  Dance  of  Death  drew  for  centuries  the  curious 
to  Bale,  could  not  picture  the  Jew  save  as  the  gaberdined 
miser,  only  dropping  his  money-bag  at  Death's  touch.  Well, 
here  is  another  sight  for  him — could  Death,  that  took  him 
too,  bring  him  back  for  a  moment — these  scholars,  think- 
ers, poets,  from  all  the  lands  of  the  Exile,  who  stand  up  in 
honor  of  the  dead  pioneers  of  Zionism,  and,  raising  their 
right  hands  to  heaven,  cry,  "If  I  forget  thee,  0  Jerusalem, 
let  my  right  hand  forget  its  cunning  !"  Yes,  the  dream  still 
stirs  at  the  heart  of  the  mummied  race,  the  fire  quenched 
two  thousand  years  ago  sleeps  yet  in  the  ashes.  And  if  our 
President  forgets  that  the  vast  bulk  of  his  brethren  are  un- 
represented in  his  Congress,  that  they  are  content  with  the 
civic  rights  so  painfully  won,  and  have  quite  other  concep- 
tions of  their  creed's  future,  who  will  grudge  him  this  mo- 
ment of  fine  rapture  ? 

Or,  Avhen  at  night,  in  the  students'  Koinmers,  with  joy- 
ful weeping  and  with  brotherly  kisses,  sages  and  gray- 
beards  join  in  the  gaudeamus  igitur,  who  shall  deny  him 
grounds  for  lus  faith  that  juvenes  sumus  yet,  that  the 
carking  centuries  have  had  no  power  over  our  immortal 
nation.  "  Age  cannot  wither  her,  nor  custom  stale  her 
infinite  variety." 

439 


DKEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

The  world  in  which  j-jrophccies  are  uttered  cannot  be  the 
world  in  which  prophecies  are  fulfilled.  And  yet  when — 
at  the  wind-up  of  this  memorable  meeting — the  Rabbi  of 
Bale,  in  the  black  skull-cap  of  sanctity,  ascending  the  trib- 
une amid  the  deafening  applause  of  a  catholic  Congress, 
expresses  the  fears  of  the  faithful,  lest  in  the  new  Jewish 
State  the  religious  Jew  be  under  a  ban ;  and  when  the 
President  gravely  gives  the  assurance,  amid  enthusiasm  as 
frantic,  that  Judaism  has  nothing  to  fear — Judaism,  the 
one  cause  and  consolation  of  the  ages  of  isolation  and 
martyrdom — does  no  sense  of  the  irony  of  history  intrude 
upon  his  exalted  mood  ? 


THE    PALESTINE    PILGKIM 


A  VAST,  motley  crowd  of  poor  Jews  and  Jewesses  sway- 
ed outside  the  doors  of  the  great  Manchester  synagogue, 
warmed  against  the  winter  afternoon  by  their  desperate 
squeezing  and  pushing.  They  stretched  from  the  broad- 
pillared  portico  down  the  steps  and  beyond  the  iron  rail- 
inofs,  far  into  the  street.  The  wooden  benches  of  the 
sacred  building  were  already  packed  with  a  perspiring  mul- 
titude, seated  indiscriminately,  women  with  men,  and  even 
men  in  the  women's  gallery,  resentfully  conscious — for  the 
first  time — of  the  grating.  The  hour  of  the  address  had 
already  struck,  but  the  body  of  police  strove  in  vain  to 
close  the  doors  against  the  mighty  human  stream  that 
pressed  on  and  on,  frenzied  with  the  fear  of  disappoint- 
ment and  the  long  wait. 

A  policeman,  worming  his  way  in  by  the  caretaker's  en- 
trance, bore  to  the  hero  of  the  afternoon  the  superintend- 
ent's message  that  unless  he  delayed  his  speech  till  the 
bulk  of  the  disappointed  could  be  got  inside,  a  riot  could 
not  be  staved  off.  And  so  the  stream  continued  to  force 
itself  slowly  forward,  flowing  into  every  nook  and  gangway, 
till  it  stood  solid  and  immovable,  heaped  like  the  waters  of 
the  Red  8ea.  And  when  at  last  the  doors  were  bolted,  and 
thousands  of  swarthy  faces,  illumined  faintly  by  clusters  of 
pendent  gas-globes,  were  turned  towards  the  tall  pulpit 

441 


DEEAMER8    OF    THE    GHETTO 

where  the  sj^eaker  stood,  dominant,  against  the  mystic 
background  of  the  Ark-curtain,  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole 
Ghetto  of  Manchester — the  entire  population  of  Strange- 
ways  and  Redbank — had  poured  itself  into  this  one  syna- 
gogue in  a  great  tidal  wave,  moved  by  one  of  those  strange 
celestial  influences  which  have  throughout  all  history  dis- 
turbed the  torpor  of  the  Jewries. 

Of  these  poverty-stricken  thousands,  sucked  hither  by 
the  fame  of  a  soldier  rumored  to  represent  a  Messianic 
millionaire  bent  on  the  restoration  and  redemption  of 
Israel,  Aaron  the  Pedlar  was  an  atom — ugly,  wan,  and  stoop- 
ing, with  pious  ear-locks,  and  a  long,  fusty  coat,  little  re- 
garded even  by  those  amid  whom  he  surged  and  squeezed 
for  hours  in  patience.  Aaron  counted  for  less  than  noth- 
ing in  a  world  he  helped  to  overcrowd,  and  of  which  he 
perceived  very  little.  For,  although  he  did  not  fail  to 
make  a  profit  on  his  gilded  goods,  and  knew  how  to 
wheedle  servants  at  side-doors,  he  was  far  behind  his  fel- 
lows in  that  misapprehension  of  the  human  hurly-burly 
which  makes  your  ordinary  Russian  Jew  a  political  oracle. 
Aaron's  interest  in  politics  was  limited  to  the  wars  of  the 
Kings  of  Israel  and  the  misdeeds  of  Titus  and  Antiochus 
Epiphanes.  To  him  the  modern  world  was  composed  of 
Jews  and  heathen  ;  and  society  had  two  simple  sections — 
the  rich  and  the  poor. 

''Don't  you  enjoy  travelling  ?"  one  of  the  former  section 
once  asked  him  affably.  "  Even  if  it's  disagreeable  in  win- 
ter you  must  pass  through  a  good  deal  of  beautiful  scenery 
in  summer." 

"If  I  am  on  business,"  replied  the  pedlar,  "how  can  I 
bother  about  the  beautiful  ?" 

And,  flustered  though  he  was  by  the  condescension  of 
the  great  person,  his  naive  counter -query  expressed  a 
truth.     lie  lived,  indeed,  in  a  strange  dream-world,  and 

443 


THE    PALESTINE    PILGEIM 

had  no  eyes  for  the  real  except  in  the  shape  of  cheap 
trinkets.  He  was  liappier  in  the  squalid  streets  of  Strange- 
ways,  where  strips  of  Hebrew  patched  the  windows  of  cook- 
shops,  and  where  a  synagogue  was  ever  at  hand,  than  when 
striding  across  the  purple  moors  under  an  ojjen  blue  sky, 
or  resting  with  his  pack  by  the  side  of  purling  brooks. 
Stupid  his  enemies  would  have  called  him,  only  he  was 
too  unimportant  to  have  enemies,  the  roughs  and  the 
children  who  mocked  his  passage  being  actuated  merely 
by  impersonal  malice.  To  his  friends  —  if  the  few  who 
were  aware  of  his  existence  could  be  called  friends  —  he 
was  a  Schlemihl  (a  luckless  fool). 

"  A  man  who  earns  a  pound  a  week  live  without  a  wife  !"' 
complained  the  Shadchan  (marriage-broker)  to  a  group  of 
sympathetic  cap-makers. 

"  I  suppose  he's  such  a  Sclilemihl  no  father  would  ever 
look  at  him  !"  said  a  father,  with  a  bunch  of  black-eyed 
daughters. 

''Oh,  but  he  was  married  in  Eussia,"  said  another;  "but 
just  as  he  sent  his  wife  the  money  to  come  over,  she  died." 

"And  yet  you  call  him  a  Schlemihl!"  cried  Moshele,  the 
cynic. 

"  Ah,  but  her  family  stuck  to  the  money  !"  retorted  the 
narrator,  and  captured  the  laugh. 

It  was  true.  After  three  years  of  terrible  struggle  and 
privation,  Aaron  had  prepared  an  English  home  for  his 
Yenta,  but  she  slept  instead-  in  a  Russian  grave.  Perhaps 
if  his  friends  had  known  how  he  had  thrown  away  the 
chance  of  sending  for  her  earlier,  they  would  have  been  still 
more  convinced  that  he  was  a  born  Schlemihl.  For  within 
eighteen  months  of  his  landing  in  London  docks,  Aaron, 
through  his  rapid  mastery  of  English  and  ciphering  at  the 
evening  classes  for  Hebrew  adults,  had  found  a  post  as 
book-keeper  to  a  clothes-store  in  Ratcliff  Highway.     But 

443 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    CtIIETTO 

he  soon  discovered  that  he  was  expected  to  fake  the  in- 
voices, especially  when  drunken  sailors  came  to  rig  them- 
selves up  in  mufti. 

''Well,  we'll  throw  the  scarf  in,"  the  genial  salesman 
would  concede  cheerily.  ''  And  the  waistcoat  ?  One-and- 
three  —  a  good  waistcoat,  as  clean  as  new,  and  dirt  cheap, 
so  'elp  me." 

But  when  Aaron  made  out  the  bill  he  was  nudged  to  put 
the  one-and-three  in  the  column  for  pounds  and  shillings 
respectively,  and  even,  if  the  buyer  were  sufficiently  in 
funds  and  liquor,  to  set  down  the  date  of  the  month  in  the 
same  pecuniary  partitions,  and  to  add  it  up  glibly  with  the 
rest,  calendar  and  coin  together.  But  Aaron,  although  he 
was  not  averse  from  honestly  misrepresenting  the  value  of 
goods,  drew  the  line  at  trickery,  and  so  he  was  kicked  out. 
It  took  him  a  year  of  nondescript  occupations  to  amass  a 
little  stock  of  mock  jewellery  wherewith  to  peddle,  and 
Manchester  he  found  a  more  profitable  centre  than  the 
metropolis.  Yenta  dead,  profit  and  holy  learning  divided 
his  thoughts,  and  few  of  his  fellows  achieved  less  of  the 
former  or  more  of  the  latter  than  our  itinerant  idealist. 

Such  was  one  of  the  thousands  of  souls  swarming  that 
afternoon  in  the  synagogue,  such  was  one  despised  unit  of 
a  congregation  itself  accounted  by  the  world  a  pitiable  mass 
of  superstitious  poverty,  and  now  tossing  with  emotion  in 
the  dim  spaces  of  the  sacred  building. 

The  Oriental  imagination  of  the  hearers  magnified  the 
simple  soldierly  sentences  of  the  orator,  touched  them  with 
color  and  haloed  them  with  mystery,  till,  as  the  deep  gasps 
and  sobs  of  the  audience  struck  back  like  blows  on  the 
speaker's  chest,  the  contagion  of  their  passion  thrilled  him 
to  responsive  emotion.  And,  seen  through  tears,  arose  for 
him  and  them  a  picture  of  Israel  again  enthroned  in  •Pal- 
estine, the  land  flowing  once  more  with  milk  and  honey, 

444 


THE    PALESTINE    PILGRIM 

rnstliug  with  corn  and  vines  planted  by  their  own  hands, 
and  Zion — at  peace  with  all  the  world — the  recognized  ar- 
bitrator of  the  nations,  making  true  the  word  of  the  Proph- 
et :  ''For  from  Zion  shall  go  forth  the  Law,  and  the  word 
of  God  from  Jerusalem." 

To  Aaron  the  vision  came  like  a  divine  intoxication.  He 
stamped  his  feet,  clapped,  cried,  shouted.  He  felt  tears 
streaming  down  his  cheeks  like  the  rivers  that  watered 
Paradise.  What !  This  hope  that  had  haunted  him  from 
boyhood,  wafting  from  the  pages  of  the  holy  books,  was 
not  then  a  shadowy  splendor  on  the  horizon's  rim.  It  was 
a  solidity,  within  sight,  almost  within  touch.  He  himself 
might  hope  to  sit  in  peace  under  his  own  fig-tree,  no  more 
the  butt  of  the  street  boys.  And  the  vague  vision,  though 
in  becoming  definite  it  had  been  transformed  to  earthliness, 
was  none  the  less  grand  for  that.  He  had  always  dimly  ex- 
pected Messianic  miracles,  but  in  that  magic  afternoon  the 
plain  words  of  the  soldier  unsealed  his  eyes,  and  suddenly 
he  saw  clearly  that  just  as,  in  Israel,  every  man  was  his 
own  priest,  needing  no  mediator,  so  every  man  was  his  own 
Messiah. 

And  as  he  squeezed  out  of  the  synagogue,  unconscious  of 
the  chattering,  jostling  crowd,  he  saw  himself  in  Zion,  Avor- 
shipping  at  the  Holy  Temple,  that  rose  spacious  and  splen- 
did as  the  Manchester  Exchange.  Yes ;  the  Jews  must  re- 
turn to  Palestine,  there  must  be  a  great  voluntary  stream 
— great,  if  gradual.  Slowly  but  surely  the  Jews  must  win 
back  their  country  ;  they  must  cease  trafficking  with  the 
heathen  and  return  to  the  soil,  sowing  and  reaping,  so  that 
the  Feast  of  the  Ingathering  might  become  a  reality  instead 
o-f  a  prayer-service.  Then  should  tlie  atonement  of  Israel 
be  accomplished,  and  the  morning  stars  sing  together  as  at 
the  first  day. 

As  he  walked  home  along  the  squalid  steeps  of  Fernie 

445 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Street  and  Verclon  Street,  and  gazed  in  at  the  uncurtained 
windows  of  the  one-story  houses,  a  new  sense  of  their  sor- 
didness,  as  contrasted  with  that  hright  vision,  was  borne  in 
upon  him.  Instead  of  large  families  in  one  ragged  room, 
encumbered  with  steamy  washing,  he  saw  great  farms  and 
broad  acres ;  and  all  that  beauty  of  the  face  of  earth,  to 
which  he  had  been  half  blind,  began  to  ajipeal  to  him  now 
that  it  was  mixed  up  with  religion.  In  this  wise  did  Aaron 
become  a  politician  and  a  modern. 

Passing  through  the  poulterer's  on  his  way  to  his  room — 
the  poulterer  and  he  divided  the  house  between  them,  rent- 
ing a  room  each — he  paused  to  talk  with  the  group  of  wom- 
en who  were  2:»lucking  the  fowls,  and  told  them  glad  tid- 
ings of  great  fowl-rearing  farms  in  Palestine.  He  sat  down 
on  the  bed,  which  occupied  half  the  tiny  shop,  and  became 
almost  eloquent  upon  the  great  colonization  movement  and 
the  "  Society  of  Lovers  of  Zion,"  which  had  begun  to  ram- 
ify throughout  the  world. 

"  Yes  ;  but  if  all  Israel  has  farms,  who  will  buy  my 
fowls  ?"  said  the  poulterer's  wife. 

"You  will  not  need  to  sell  fowls,"  Aaron  tried  to  ex- 
plain. 

The  poulterer  shook  his  head.  ''  The  whole  congrega- 
tion is  gone  mad,"  he  said.  "  For  my  part  I  believe  that 
when  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  He,  brings  us  back  to  Pal- 
estine, it  will  be  Avithout  any  trouble  of  our  own.  As  it  is 
written,  I  will  bear  thee  upon  eagles'  wings." 

Aaron  disputed  this  notion  —  which  he  had  hitherto  ac- 
cepted as  axiomatic — Avith  all  the  ardor  of  the  convert.  It 
was  galling  to  find,  as  he  discussed  the  thing  during  the 
next  few  weeks,  that  many  even  of  those  present  at  the 
speech  read  miracle  into  the  designs  of  Providence  and  the 
millionaire.  But  Aaron  was  able  to  get  together  a  little 
band  of  brother  souls  bent  on  emigrating  together  to  Pales- 

446 


THE    PALESTINE    PILGEIM 

tine,  there  to  sow  the  seeds  of  the  Kingdom,  literally  as 
well  as  metaphorically.  This  enthusiasm,  however,  did 
not  wear  well.  Gradually,  as  the  memory  of  the  magnetic 
meeting  faded,  the  pilgrim  brotherhood  disintegrated,  till 
at  last  only  its  nucleus  —  Aaron  —  was  left  in  solitary  de- 
termination. 

"  You  have  only  yourself,"  pleaded  the  backsliders.  "'  We 
have  wife  and  children." 

"I  have  more  than  myself,"  retorted  Aaron  bitterly.  "I 
have  faith." 

And,  indeed,  his  faith  in  the  vision  was  unshakable. 
Every  man  being  his  own  Messiah,  he,  at  least,  Avould  not 
draw  back  from  the  j)rospective  plough  to  which  he  had 
put  his  hand.  He  had  been  saving  up  for  the  great  voyage 
and  a  little  surplus  wherewith  to  support  him  in  Palestine 
while  looking  about  him.  Once  established  in  the  Holy 
Land,  how  forcibly  he  would  preach  by  epistle  to  the  men 
of  little  faith  !  They  would  come  out  and  join  him.  He 
— the  despised  Aaron — the  least  of  the  House  of  Israel — 
would  have  played  a  part  in  the  restoration  of  his  peoj)le. 

"  You  will  come  back,"  said  the  poulterer  sceptically, 
when  his  fellow-tenant  bade  him  good-bye  ;  and  parody- 
ing the  sacred  aspiration — ''Next  year  in  Manchester," 
he  cried,  in  genial  mockery.  The  fowl  -  plucking  females 
laughed  heartily,  agitating  the  feathery  fluff  in  the  air. 

"Not  so,"  said  Aaron.  "I  cannot  come  back.  I  have 
sold  the  goodwill  of  my  round  to  Joseph  Petowski,  and 
have  transferred  to  him  all  my  customers." 

Some  of  the  recreant  brotherhood,  remorsefully  admir- 
ing, cheered  him  up  by  appearing  on  the  platform  of  the 
station  to  Avish  him  God-speed. 

"  Next  year  in  Jerusalem  !"  he  prophesied  for  them,  too, 
recouping  himself  for  the  poulterer's  profane  scepticism. 

He  went  overland  to  Marseilles,  thence  by  ship  to  Asia 

447 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Minor.  It  was  a  terrible  journey.  Piety  forebade  him  to 
eat  or  drink  with  the  heathen,  or  from  their  vessels.  His 
portmanteau  held  a  little  store  of  provisions  and  crockery, 
and  dry  bread  was  all  he  bought  on  the  route. 

Fleeced  and  bullied  by  touts  and  cabmen,  he  found  him- 
self at  last  on  board  a  cheap  Mediterranean  steamer  which 
pitched  and  rolled  through  a  persistent  spell  of  stormy 
weather.  His  berth  was  a  snatched  corner  of  the  bare 
deck,  where  heaps  of  earth's  failures,  of  all  races  and 
creeds  and  colors,  grimily  picturesque,  slept  in  their 
clothes  upon  such  bedding  as  they  had  brought  with 
them.  There  was  a  spawn  of  babies,  a  litter  of  animals 
and  fowls  in  coops,  a  swarm  of  human  bundles,  scarcely 
distinguishable  from  bales  except  for  a  protruding  hand  or 
foot.  There  were  Bedouins,  Armenians,  Spaniards,  a  Turk 
with  several  wives  in  an  improvised  tent,  some  Greek  wom- 
en, a  party  of  Syrians  from  Mount  Lebanon.  There  were 
also  several  Jews  of  both  sexes.  But  Aaron  did  not  scrape 
acquaintance  with  these  at  first — they  lay  yards  away,  and 
he  was  half  dead  with  sea-sickness  and  want  of  food.  He 
had  counted  on  making  tea  in  his  own  cup  with  his  own 
little  kettle,  but  the  cook  would  not  trouble  to  supply  him 
with  hot  water.  Oiily  the  great  vision  drawing  hourly 
nearer  and  nearer  sustained  him. 

It  was  the  attempt  of  a  half-crazy  Egyptian  Jewess  to 
leap  overboard  with  her  new-born  child  that  brought  him 
into  relation  with  the  other  Jewish  passengers.  He  learnt 
her  story  :  the  everyday  story  of  a  woman  divorced  in  New 
York,  after  the  fashion  of  its  Ghetto,  and  sent  back  with 
scarcely  a  penny  to  her  native  Cairo,  while  still  light- 
headed after  childbirth.  He  heard  also  the  story  of  the 
buxom,  kind-hearted  Jewess  who  now  shadowed  her  pro- 
tectingly  ;  the  no  less  everyday  story  of  the  good-looking 
girl  inveigled  by  a  rascally  Jew  to  a  situation  in  Marseilles. 

448 


THE    PALESTINE    PILGEIM 

They  contributed  with  the  men,  a  Eussian  Jew  from  Chi- 
cago, and  a  German  from  Brindisi,  to  give  Aaron  of  Man- 
chester a  new  objective  sense  of  the  tragedy  of  wandering 
Israel,  interminably  tossed  betwixt  persecution  and  pover- 
ty, perpetually  tempted  by  both  to  bo  false  to  themselves : 
the  tragedy  that  was  now — thank  God  ! — to  have  its  end. 
Egyptians,  Americans,  Galicians,  Englishmen,  Russians, 
Dutchmen,  they  had  only  one  last  migration  before  them — 
that  which  he,  Aaron,  was  now  accomplishing.  To  his  joy 
one  of  his  new  acquaintances  —  the  Russian  —  shared  the 
dream  of  a  Palestine  flowing  once  more  with  milk  and  honey 
and  holy  doctrine,  was  a  member  of  a  ''  Lovers  of  Zion  "  so- 
ciety. He  was  a  pasty-faced  young  man  with  gray  eyes 
and  eyebrows  and  a  reddish  beard.  He  wore  frowsy  clothes, 
with  an  old  billy  -  cock  and  a  dingy  cotton  shirt,  but  he 
combined  all  the  lore  of  the  old-fashioned,  hard-shell  Jew 
with  a  living  realization  of  what  his  formulse  meant,  and 
so  the  close  of  Aaron's  voyage — till  the  Russian  landed  at 
Alexandria  —  was  softened  and  shortened  by  sitting  wor- 
shipf ully  at  this  idealist's  feet,  drinking  in  quotations  from 
Bachja's  Duties  of  the  Heart  or  Saadja  Gaon's  Book  of  the 
Faith.  There  was  not  wanting  some  one  to  play  Sancho 
Panza,  for  the  German  Jew,  while  binding  his  arm  piously 
with  phylacteries  in  the  publicity  of  the  swarming  deck, 
loved  to  pose  as  a  man  of  common  sense,  free  from  super- 
stition. 

"The  only  reason  men  go  to  Palestine,"  he  maintained, 
"is  because  they  think,  as  the  psalm  says,  the  land  for- 
gives sin.  And  they  believe,  too,  that  those  bodies  whicli 
are  not  burned  in  Palestine,  when  the  Messiah's  last  trump 
sounds,  will  have  to  roll  under  lands  and  seas  to  get  to 
Jerusalem.  So  they  go  to  die  there,  so  as  to  escape  the 
underground  route.  Besides,  Maimonides  says  the  Mes- 
sianic period  will  only  last  forty  years.  So  perhaps  they 
2  F  449 


DllEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

are  afraid  all  the  fun  will  be  over  and  the  Leviathan  eaten 
up  before  they  arrive." 

''Fools  there  are  always  in  the  world,"  replied  the  Rus- 
sian, "and  their  piety  cannot  give  them  brains.  These 
literal  folk  are  the  sort  who  imagine  that  the  Temple  ex- 
panded miraculously,  because  the  Talmud  says  howsoever 
great  a  multitude  flocked  to  worship  therein,  there  was  al- 
ways room  for  them.  Do  you  not  see  what  a  fine  metaphor 
that  is  !  Even  so  the  Third  Temple  will  be  of  the  Spirit, 
not  of  Fire,  as  these  literal  materialists  translate  the  proph- 
ecy. As  the  prophet  Joel  says,  'I  will  pour  out  my  Sjiirit. 
Your  old  men  shall  dream  dreams,  your  young  men  shall 
see  visions.'  And  this  Spirit  is  working  to-day.  But 
through  our  own  souls.  Xo  Messiah  will  ever  come  from 
a  split  heaven.  If  a  Christian  does  anything  wrong,  it  is 
the  individual ;  if  a  Jew,  it  is  the  nation.  Why  ?  Because 
we  have  no  country,  and  hence  are  set  apart  in  all  coun- 
tries. But  a  country  we  must  and  shall  have.  The  fact 
that  we  still  dream  of  our  land  shows  that  it  is  to  be  ours 
again.  Without  a  country  we  are  dead.  Without  us  the 
land  is  dead.  It  has  been  waiting  for  us.  Why  has  Jio 
other  nation  possessed  it  and  cultivated  it  'f 

"  Why  ?  AVhy  do  the  ducks  go  barefoot  ?"  The  Ger- 
man quoted  the  Yiddish  proverb  with  a  sneer. 

"The  land  waits  for  us,"  replied  the  young  Russian 
fervidly,  "so  that  we  may  complete  our  mission.  Jeru- 
salem—  whose  very  name  means  the  heritage  of  double 
Peace — must  be  the  watch-tower  of  Peace  on  earth.  The 
nations  shall  be  taught  to  compete  neither  with  steel  weap- 
ons nor  with  gold,  but  with  truth  and  purity.  Every  man 
shall  be  taught  that  he  exists  for  another  man,  else  were 
men  as  the  beasts.  And  thus  at  last  '  the  knowledge  of 
God  shall  cover  the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea.'" 

"If  they  would  only  remain  covering  the  sea  !"  said  the 

450 


THE    PALESTINE    PILGRIM 

German  irreverently,  as  the  spray  of  a  wave  swept  over  his 
mattress. 

"Those  who  have  lost  this  faith  are  no  longer  Jews," 
curtly  replied  the  Russian.  ''Without  this  hope  the  pres- 
ervation of  the  Jewish  race  is  a  superstition.  Let  the 
Jews  be  swallowed  up  in  the  nations — and  me  in  the  sea. 
If  I  thought  that  Israel's  hope  was  a  lie  I  should  jump  over- 
board."' 

The  German  shrugged  his  shoulders  good-humoredly. 
"You  and  the  Egyptian  woman  are  a  pair." 

At  Alexandria,  where  some  of  the  cargo  and  his  Jewish 
fellow-passengers  Avere  to  be  landed,  Aaron  was  tantalized 
for  days  by  the  quarantine,  so  that  he  must  needs  fret  amid 
the  musty  odors  long  after  he  had  thought  to  tread  the  sa- 
cred streets  of  Jerusalem.  But  at  last  he  found  himself 
making  straight  for  the  Holy  Land  ;  and  one  magic  day, 
the  pilgrim,  pallid  and  emaciated,  gazed  in  pious  joy  upon 
the  gray  line  of  rocks  that  changed  gradually  into  terraces 
of  red  sloping  roofs  overbrooded  by  a  palm-tree.  Jaffa  ! 
But  a  cruel,  white  sea  still  rolled  and  roared  betwixt  him 
and  these  holy  shores,  guarded  by  the  rock  of  Andromeda 
and  tumbling  and  leaping  billows  ;  and  the  ship  lay  to  out- 
side the  ancient  harbor,  while  heavy  boats  rowed  by  stal- 
wart Arabs  and  Syrians,  in  red  fez  and  girdle,  clamored 
for  the  passengers.  Aaron  was  thrown  unceremoniously 
over  the  ship's  side  at  the  favorable  moment  when  the  boat 
leapt  up  to  meet  him ;  he  fell  into  it,  soused  with  spray, 
but  glowing  at  heart.  As  his  boat  pitched  and  tossed  along, 
a  delicious  smell  of  orange-blossom  wafted  from  the  orange- 
groves,  and  seemed  to  the  worn  pilgrim  a  symbol  of  the 
marriage  betwixt  him  and  Zion.  The  land  of  his  fathers — 
there  it  lay  at  last,  and  in  a  transport  of  happiness  the 
wanderer  had,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  a  sense  of  tlie 
restful  dignity  of  an  ancestral  home.     But  as  the  boat  la- 

451 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

bored  without  apparent  progress  towards  the  channel  be- 
twixt the  black  rocks,  over  which  the  spray  flew  skywards, 
a  foreboding  tortured  him  that  some  ironic  destiny  would 
drown  him  in  sight  of  his  goal.  He  prayed  silently  with 
shut  eyes  .and  his  petition  changed  to  praise  as  the  boat 
bumped  the  landing-stage  and  he  opened  them  on  a  motley 
Eastern  crowd  and  the  heaped  barrels  of  a  wharf.  Shoul- 
dering his  portmenteau,  which,  despite  his  debilitated  con- 
dition, felt  as  light  as  the  feathers  at  the  poulterer's,  he 
scrambled  ecstatically  up  some  slippery  steps  on  to  the 
stone  platform,  and  had  one  foot  on  the  soil  of  the  Holy 
Land,  when  a  Turkish  official  in  a  shabby  black  uniform 
stopped  him. 

"  Your  passport,"  he  said,  in  Arabic.     Aaron  could  not 
understand.     Somebody  interpreted. 

'M  have  no  passport,"  he  answered,  Avitli  a  premonitory 
pang. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?" 

"To  live  in  Palestine." 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?" 

"England,"  he  replied  triumphantly,  feeling  this  was  a 
mighty  password  throughout  the  world. 

"You  are  not  an  Englishman  ?" 

"No-o,"  he  faltered.     "I  have  lived  in  England  some — 
many  years." 

"  Naturalized  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Aaron,  when  he  understood. 

"  What  countryman  are  you  ?" 

"  Russian." 

"  And  a  Jew,  of  course  ?" 

"Yes." 

"No  Russian  Jews  may  enter  Palestine." 

Aaron  was  hustled  back  into  the  boat  and  restored  safely 
to  the  steamer. 

452 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 


The  Red  Beadle  shook  his  head.  "There  is  nothing 
but  Nature/'  he  said  obstinatel}^  as  his  hot  iron  polished 
the  boot  between  his  knees.  He  was  called  the  Red  Beadle 
because,  though  his  irreligious  opinions  had  long  since  lost 
him  his  synagogue  appointment  and  driven  him  back  to 
his  old  work  of  bootmaking,  his  beard  was  still  ruddy. 

"  Yes,  but  Avho  made  Nature  ?"  retorted  his  new  em- 
ployer, his  strange,  scholarly  face  aglow  with  argument, 
and  the  flame  of  the  lamp  suspended  over  his  bench  by 
strings  from  the  ceiling.  The  other  clickers  and  riveters 
of  the  Spitalfields  workshop,  in  their  shocked  interest  in 
the  problem  of  the  origin  of  Nature,  ceased  for  an  instant 
breathing  in  the  odors  of  burnt  grease,  cobbler's  wax,  and 
a  coke  fire  replenished  with  scraps  of  leather. 

''  Nature  makes  herself,"  answered  the  Red  Beadle.  It 
was  his  declaration  of  faith — or  of  war.  Possibly  it  was 
the  familiarity  with  divine  things  which  synagogue  beadle- 
dom involves  that  had  bred  his  contempt  for  them.  At 
any  rate,  he  was  not  now  to  be  coerced  by  Zussmann  Ilerz, 
even  though  he  Avas  fully  alive  to  the  fact  that  Zussmann's 
unique  book-lined  workshop  was  the  only  one  that  had 
opened  to  him,  when  the  more  pious  shoemakers  of  the 

453 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Ghetto  had  professed  to  be  "fnll  np."  He  Avas,  indeed, 
surprised  to  find  Znssmann  a  believer  in  the  Snpernatural, 
having  heard  whispers  that  the  man  was  as  great  an 
''Epicurean^'  as  himself.  Had  not  Znssmann — ay,  and 
his  wigless  wife,  Hulda,  too — been  seen  emerging  from 
the  mighty  Church  that  stood  in  frowsy  majesty  amid 
its  tall,  neglected  box-like  tombs,  and  was  to  the  Ghetto 
merely  a  topographical  point  and  the  chronometric  stand- 
ard ?  And  yet,  here  was  Zussmann  an  assiduous  attendant 
at  the  synagogue  of  the  first  floor — nay,  a  scholar  so  con- 
versant with  Hebrew,  not  to  mention  European,  lore,  that 
the  Red  Beadle  felt  himself  a  Man-of-the-Earth,  only  re- 
taining his  superiority  by  remembering  that  learning  did 
not  always  mean  logic. 

"Nature  make  herself!"  Zussmann  now  retorted,  with 
a  tolerant  smile.  "As  well  say  this  boot  made  itself  !  The 
theory  of  Evolution  only  puts  the  mystery  further  back, 
and  already  in  the  Talmud  we  find — " 

"  NaUirc  made  the  boot,"  interrupted  the  Red  Beadle. 
"  Nature  made  you,  and  you  made  the  boot  But  nobody 
made  Nature." 

"But  what  is  Nature?"  cried  Zussmann.  "The  gar- 
ment of  God,  as  Goethe  says.  Call  Him  Noumenon  with 
Kant  or  Thought  and  Extension  with  Spinoza— I  care 
not." 

The  Red  Beadle  was  awed  into  temporary  silence  by 
these  unknown  names  and  ideas,  expressed,  moreover,  in 
German  words  foreign  to  his  limited  vocabulary  of  Yid- 
dish. 

The  room  in  which  Zussmann  thought  and  worked  was 
one  of  two  that  he  rented  from  the  Christian  corn-factor 
who  owned  the  tall  house — a  stout  Cockney  who  spent  his 
life  book-keeping  in  a  little  office  on  wheels,  but  whom  the 
specimens  of  oats  and  dog-biscuits  in  his  Avindow  invested 

454 


THE    COX  CILIA  TOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

Avith  an  air  of  roseate  rurality.  This  personage  drew  a 
little  income  from  the  population  of  his  house,  Avhose 
staircases  exhibited  strata  of  children  of  different  social 
developments,  and  to  which  the  synagogue  on  the  first 
floor  added  a  large  floating  population.  Zussmann's  at- 
tendance thereat  was  not  the  only  thing  in  him  that  as- 
tonished the  Red  Beadle.  There  was  also  a  gentle  def- 
erence of  manner  not  usual  with  masters,  or  with  pious 
persons.  His  consideration  for  his  employes  amounted, 
in  the  Beadle's  eyes,  to  maladministration,  and  the  grave 
loss  he  sustained  through  one  of  his  hands  selling  oflE  a 
crate  of  finished  goods  and  flying  to  America  was  de- 
servedly due  to  confidence  in  another  pious  person. 


II 

Despite  the  Red  Beadle's  Rationalism,  which,  basing 
itself  on  the  facts  of  life,  was  not  to  be  crushed  by  high- 
flown  German  words,  the  master-shoemaker  showed  him 
marked  favor  and  often  invited  him  to  stay  on  to  supper. 
Although  the  Beadle  felt  this  was  but  the  due  recognition 
of  one  intellect  by  another,  if  an  inferior  intellect,  he  Avas 
at  times  irrationally  grateful  for  the  privilege  of  a  place  to 
spend  his  evenings  in.  For  the  Ghetto  had  cut  him — 
there  could  be  no  doubt  of  that.  The  worshippers  in  his 
old  synagogue  whom  he  had  once  dominated  as  Beadle 
now  passed  him  by  with  sour  looks — "a  dog  one  does  not 
treat  thus,"  the  Beadle  told  himself,  tugging  miserably  at 
his  red  beard. 

"It  is  not  as  if  I  were  a  Meshummad — a  convert  to 
Christianity."  Some  hereditary  instinct  admitted  that  as 
a  just  excuse  for  execration.  "I  can't  make  friends  with 
the  Christians,  and  so  I  am  cut  off  from  both." 

455 


DREAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

When  after  a  thunderstorm  two  of  the  hands  resigned 
their  places  at  Zussmann's  benches  on  the  avowed  ground 
that  atlieism  attracts  lightning,  Zussmann's  loyalty  to  the 
freethinker  converted  the  Beadle's  gratitude  from  fitfulness 
into  a  steady  glow. 

And,  other  considerations  apart,  those  were  enjoyable 
suppers  after  the  toil  and  grime  of  the  day.  The  Bea- 
dle especially  admired  Zussmann's  hands  when  the  black 
grease  had  been  washed  off  them,  the  fingers  were  so  long 
and  tapering.  Why  had  his  own  fingers  been  made  so 
stumpy  and  square-tipped  ?  Since  Nature  made  herself, 
why  was  she  so  uneven  a  worker  ?  Nay,  why  could  she 
not  have  given  him  white  teeth  like  Zussmann's  wife  ? 
Not  that  these  were  ostentatious — you  thought  more  of 
the  sweetness  of  the  smile  of  wliich  they  were  part.  Still, 
as  Nature's  irregularity  was  particularly  manifest  in  his 
own  teeth,  he  could  not  help  the  reflection. 

If  the  Red  Beadle  had  not  been  a  widower,  the  unfeigned 
success  of  the  Herz  union  might  have  turned  his  own 
thoughts  to  that  happy  state.  As  it  was,  the  sight  of  their 
happiness  occasionally  shot  through  his  breast  renewed 
pangs  of  vain  longing  for  his  Leah,  whose  death  from 
cancer  had  completed  his  conception  of  Nature.  Lucky 
Zussmann,  to  have  found  so  sympathetic  a  partner  in  a 
pretty  female  !  For  Hulda  shared  Zussmann's  dreams, 
and  was  even  copying  out  his  great  work  for  the  press,  for 
business  was  brisk  and  he  would  soon  have  saved  up  enough 
money  to  print  it.  The  great  work,  in  the  secret  of  which 
the  Red  Beadle  came  to  participate,  was  written  in  Hebrew, 
and  the  elegant  curves  and  strokes  would  have  done  honor 
to  a  Scribe.  The  Beadle  himself  could  not  understand  it, 
knowing  only  the  formal  alphabet  such  as  appears  in  books 
and  scrolls,  but  the  first  peep  at  it  which  the  proud  Zuss- 
mann permitted  him  removed  his  last  disrespect  for  the 

456 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF   CHRISTENDOM 

intellect  of  his  master,  without,  however,  removing  the 
mystery  of  that  intellect's  aberrations. 

"  But  you  dream  with  the  eyes  open,"  he  said,  when 
the  theme  of  the  work  was  explained  to  him. 

"  How  so  ?"  asked  Hulda  gently,  with  that  wonderful 
smile  of  hers. 

"  Reconcile  the  Jews  and  the  Christians  !  Meshuggas — 
madness."  He  laughed  bitterly.  "Do  you  forget  what 
we  went  through  in  Poland  ?  And  even  here  in  free  Eng- 
land, can  you  Avalk  in  the  street  without  every  little  shegetz 
calling  after  you  and  asking,  '  Who  killed  Christ  ?' " 

"  Yes,  but  herein  my  husband  explains  that  it  was  not 
the  Jews  Avho  killed  Christ,  but  Herod  and  Pilate." 

''As  it  says  in  Corinthians,"  broke  in  Zussmann  eagerly  : 
"  '  We  speak  the  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery,  which  none 
of  the  princes  of  this  world  knew  ;  for  had  they  known  it, 
they  would  not  have  crucified  the  Lord  of  Glory.'" 

"  So,"  said  the  Red  Beadle,  visibly  impressed. 

"Assuredly,"  affirmed  Hulda.  "But,  as  Zussmann  ex- 
plains here,  they  threw  the  guilt  upon  the  Jews,  who  were 
too  afraid  of  the  Romans  to  deny  it." 

The  Beadle  pondered. 

"Once  the  Christians  understand  that,"  said  Zussmann, 
pursuing  his  advantage,  "  they  will  stretch  out  the  hand 
to  us." 

The  Beadle  had  a  flash.  "But  how  will  the  Christians 
read  you  ?    No  Christian  understands  Hebrew." 

Zussmann  was  taken  momentarily  aback.  "  But  it  is 
not  so  much  for  the  Christians,"  he  explained.  "  It  is  for 
the  Jews — that  they  should  stretch  out  the  hand  to  the 
Christians." 

The  Red  Beadle  stared  at  him  in  shocked  silent  amaze. 
"  Still  greater  madness  !"  he  gasped  at  length.  "  They 
will  treat  you  worse  than  they  treat  me." 

457 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'Not  when  they  read  my  book." 

"Just  when  they  read  your  book," 

Hulda  was  smiling  serenely.  ''They  can  do  nothing  to 
my  husband  ;  he  is  his  own  master,  God  be  thanked  ;  no 
one  can  turn  him  away." 

"  They  can  insult  him." 

Zussmann  shook  his  head  gently.  "No  one  can  insult 
me  !"  he  said  simply,  "  When  a  dog  barks  at  me  I  pity  it 
that  it  does  not  know  I  love  it,  Now  draw  to  the  table. 
The  pickled  herring  smells  well." 

But  the  Red  Beadle  was  unconvinced.  "  Besides,  what 
should  we  make  it  up  with  the  Christians  for — the  stupid 
people  ?"  he  asked,  as  he  received  his  steaming  coffee-cup 
from  Frau  Herz. 

"  It  is  a  question  of  the  Future  of  the  World,"  said  Zuss- 
mann gravely,  as  he  shared  out  the  herring,  which  had 
already  been  cut  into  many  thin  slices  by  the  vendor  and 
pickler.  "  This  antagonism  is  a  perversion  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  both  religions.  Shall  we  allow  it  to  continue  for 
ever  ?" 

"  It  will  continue  till  they  both  understand  that  Nature 
makes  herself,"  said  the  Red  Beadle. 

"  It  will  continue  till  they  both  understand  my  hus- 
band's book,"  corrected  Hulda. 

"  Not  while  Jews  live  amoug  Christians.  Even  here  they 
say  we  take  the  bread  out  of  the  mouths  of  the  Christian 
shoemakers.     If  we  had  our  own  country  now — " 

"Hush  !"  said  Zussmann.  "  Do  you  share  that  material- 
istic dream?  Our  realm  is  spiritual.  Nationality  —  the 
world  stinks  with  it !  Germany  for  the  Germans,  Russia 
for  the  Russians.  Foreigners  to  the  devil — pah  !  Egoma- 
nia posing  as  patriotism.  Human  brotherhood  is  what  we 
stand  for.  Have  you  forgotten  how  the  Midrash  explains 
the   verse   in  the  Song  of  Solomon:  'I  charge  you,  0  ye 

458 


THE    CONCILIATOE    OF    CHEISTENDOM 

daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes,  and  by  the  hinds  of 
the  field,  that  ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake  my  love  till  he 
please '  ? " 

The  Eed  Beadle,  who  had  never  read  a  line  of  the  Mid- 
rash,  did  not  deny  that  he  had  forgotten  the  explanation, 
but  persisted  :  ''And  even  if  we  didn't  kill  Christ,  what 
good  will  it  do  to  tell  the  Jews  so  ?  It  will  only  make  them 
angry." 

"Why  so  ?"  said  Zussmann,  puzzled. 

"  They  will  be  annoyed  to  have  been  punished  for  noth- 
ing." 

"  But  they  have  not  been  punished  for  nothing  !"  cried 
Zussmann,  setting  down  his  fork  in  excitement.  "  They 
have  denied  their  greatest  son.  For,  as  He  said  in  Matthew, 
'I  come  to  fulfil  the  Law  of  Moses.'  Did  not  all  the 
Prophets,  His  predecessors,  cry  out  likewise  against  mere 
form  and  sacrifice  ?  Did  not  the  teachers  in  Israel  who 
followed  Him  likewise  insist  on  a  pure  heart  and  a  sinless 
soul  ?  Jesus  must  be  restored  to  His  true  place  in  the 
glorious  chain  of  Hebrew  Prophets.  As  I  explain  in  my 
chapter  on  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  which  I  have  found- 
ed on  Immanuel  Kant,  the  ground-work  of  Eeason  is — " 

But  here  the  Eed  Beadle,  whose  coffee  had  with  diffi- 
culty got  itself  sucked  into  the  right  channel,  gasped — 
"  You  have  put  that  into  your  book  ?" 

The  wife  touched  the  manuscript  with  reverent  pride. 
"  It  all  stands  here,"  she  said. 

"  What !     Quotations  from  the  New  Testament  ?" 

"  From  our  Jewish  Apostles  !"  said  Zussmann.  "Natu- 
rally !     On  every  page  !" 

"  Then  God  help  you  !"  said  the  Eed  Beadle. 


DKEAMEES  OF  THE  GHETTO 


III 

The  Brotlierliood  of  the  Peoples  was  published.  Though 
the  bill  was  far  heavier  than  the  Hebrew  printer's  estimate 
— there  being  all  sorts  of  mysterious  charges  for  correc- 
tions, which  took  away  the  last  Groschen  of  their  savings, 
Hulda  and  her  husband  were  happy.  They  had  sown  the 
seed,  and  waited  in  serene  faith  the  ingathering,  the  rec- 
onciliation of  Israel  with  the  Gentiles. 

The  book,  Avhich  was  in  paper  covers,  was  published  at  a 
shilling ;  five  hundred  copies  had  been  struck  off  for  the 
edition.  After  six  months  the  account  stood  thus  :  Sales, 
eighty-four  copies  ;  press  notices,  two  in  the  jargon  papers 
(printed  in  the  same  office  as  his  book  and  thus  amenable 
to  backstairs  influence).  The  Jewish  papers  written  in 
English,  which  loomed  before  Zussmann's  vision  as  world- 
shaking,  did  not  even  mention  its  aj^pearance  ;  perhaps 
it  had  been  better  if  the  jai-gon  papers  had  been  equally 
silent,  for,  though  less  than  one  hundred  copies  of  Tlie 
Brotherhood  of  the  Peoples  were  in  circulation,  the  book  was 
in  everybody's  mouth — like  a  piece  of  pork  to  be  spat  out 
again  shudderingly.  The  Red  Beadle's  instinct  had  been 
only  too  sound.  The  Ghetto,  accustomed  by  this  time  to 
insidious  attacks  on  its  spiritual  citadel,  feared  writers 
even  bringing  Hebrew.  Despite  the  Oriental  sandal  which 
the  cunning  shoemaker  had  fashioned,  his  fellow-Jews  saw 
the  cloven  hoof.  They  were  not  to  be  deceived  by  the 
specious  sanctity  which  Darwin  and  Schopenhauer — prob- 
ably Bishops  of  the  Established  Church  —  borrowed  from 
their  Hebrew  lettering.  Why,  that  was  the  very  trick  of 
the  Satans  who  sprinkled  the  sacred  tongue  freely  about 
handbills  inviting  souls  that  sought  for  light  to  come  and 
find  it  in  the  AVhitcchapcl  Road  between  three  and  seven. 

460 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

It  had  been  abandoned  as  hopeless  even  by  the  thin-nosed 
gentlewomen  who  had  begun  by  painting  a  Hebrew  desig- 
nation over  their  bureau  of  beneficence.  But  the  fact  that 
the  Ghetto  was  perspicacious  did  not  mitigate  the  author's 
treachery  to  his  race  and  faith.  Zussmann  was  given  vio- 
lently to  understand  that  his  presence  in  the  little  syna- 
gogue Avould  lead  to  disturbances  in  the  service,  "The 
Jew  needs  no  house  of  prayer,"  he  said;  "his  life  is  a 
prayer,  his  workshop  a  temple.'' 

His  workmen  deserted  him  one  by  one  as  vacancies  oc- 
curred elsewhere. 

"We  will  get  Christians,"  he  said. 

But  the  work  itself  began  to  fail.  He  was  dependent 
upon  a  large  firm  whose  head  was  Parnass  of  a  North  Lon- 
don congregation,  and  when  one  of  Zussmann's  workers, 
anxious  to  set  np  for  himself,  went  to  him  with  the  tale, 
the  contract  was  transferred  to  him,  and  Zussmann's  se- 
curity-deposit returned.  But  far  heavier  than  all  these 
blows  Avas  Hulda's  sudden  illness,  and  though  the  returned 
trust-money  came  in  handy  to  defray  the  exi^ense  of  doc- 
tors, the  outlook  was  not  cheerful.  But  "  I  will  become  a 
hand  myself,"  said  Zussmann  cheerfully.  "  The  annoyance 
of  my  brethren  will  pass  away  when  they  really  understand 
my  Idea  ;  meantime  it  is  working  in  them,  for  even  to  hate 
an  Idea  is  to  meditate  upon  it." 

The  Red  Beadle  grunted  angrily.  He  could  hear  Hulda 
coughing  in  the  next  room,  and  that  hurt  his  chest. 

But  it  was  summer  now,  and  quite  a  considerable  strip  of 
blue  sky  could  be  seen  from  the  window,  and  the  mote-laden 
sun-rays  that  streamed  in  encouraged  Hulda  to  grow  bet- 
ter. She  was  soon  up  and  about  again,  but  the  doctor  said 
her  system  was  thoroughly  upset  and  she  ought  to  have  sea 
air.  But  that,  of  course,  was  impossible  now.  Hulda  her- 
self declared  there  was  much  better  air  to  be  got  higher  up, 

461 


DEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

ill  the  garret,  which  was  fortunately  "to  let."  It  is  true 
there  was  only  one  room  there.  Still,  it  was  much  cheaj^er. 
The  Red  Beadle's  heart  was  licavier  than  the  furniture  he 
helped  to  carry  upstairs.  But  the  unsympathetic  couple 
did  not  share  his  gloom.  They  jested  and  laughed,  as 
light  of  heart  as  the  excited  children  on  the  staircases  who 
assisted  at  the  function.  "  My  Idea  has  raised  me  nearer 
heaven,"  said  Zussmann.  That  night,  after  the  Red  Beadle 
had  screwed  up  the  four-poster,  he  allowed  himself  to  he 
persuaded  to  stay  to  supper.  He  had  given  up  the  habit  as 
soon  as  Zussmann's  finances  began  to  fail. 

By  way  of  house-warming,  Plulda  had  ordered  in  baked 
potatoes  and  liver  from  the  cook-shop,  and  there  were  also 
three  tepid  slices  of  plum-pudding. 

"Plum-pudding  !"  cried  Zussmann  in  delight,  as»his  nos- 
trils scented  the  dainty.    "What  a  good  omen  for  the  Idea  !" 

"How  an  omen  ?"  inquired  the  Red  Beadle. 

"  Is  not  plum-pudding  associated  with  Christmas,  witli 
peace  on  earth?" 

Hulda's  eyes  flashed.  "  Yes,  it  is  a  sign — the  Brother- 
hood of  the  Peoples  I  The  Jew  will  be  the  peace-messenger 
of  the  world."  The  Red  Beadle  ate  on  sceptically.  He  had 
studied  The  Brotherhood  of  the  Peoples  to  the  great  im- 
provement of  his  Hebrew  but  with  little  edification.  He 
had  even  studied  it  in  Hulda's  original  manuscript,  which 
he  had  borrowed  and  never  intended  to  return.  But  still 
lie  could  not  share  his  friends'  belief  in  the  perfectibility  of 
mankind.  Perhaps  if  they  had  known  how  he  had  tippled 
away  his  savings  after  his  wife's  death,  they  might  have 
thought  less  well  of  humanity  and  its  potentialities  of  per- 
fection. After  all,  Huldas  were  too  rare  to  make  the 
world  sober,  much  less  fraternal.  And,  charming  as  they 
were,  honesty  demanded  one  should  not  curry  favor  with 
them  by  fostering  their  delusions. 

463 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

'MYhat  put  such  an  idea  into  your  head,  Zussmann  I" 
he  cried  unsympathetically.  Znssmann  answered  naively, 
as  if  to  a  question — 

"I  have  had  the  idea  from  a  boy.  I  remember  sitting 
stocking-footed  on  the  floor  of  the  synagogue  in  Pohmd  on 
the  Fast  of  Ab,  wondering  why  we  should  weep  so  over  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem,  which  scattered  us  among  the 
nations  as  fertilizing  seeds.  How  else  should  the  mission 
of  Israel  be  fulfilled  ?  I  remember  " — and  here  he  smiled 
pensively  —  "I  was  awakened  from  my  day-dream  by  a 
Patscli  (smack)  in  the  face  from  my  poor  old  father,  who 
was  angry  because  I  wasn't  saying  the  prayers." 

"There  will  be  always  somebody  to  give  you  that  Patscli," 
said  the  Red  Beadle  gloomily.  "  But  in  what  way  is  Israel 
dispersed  ?  It  seems  to  me  our  life  is  everywhere  as  hid- 
den from  the  nations  as  if  Ave  were  all  together  in  Pal- 
estine." 

"You  touch  a  great  truth  !  Oh,  if  I  could  only  write  in 
English  !  But  though  I  read  it  almost  as  easily  as  the  Ger- 
man, I  can  write  it  as  little.  You  know  how  one  has  to 
learn  German  in  Poland — by  stealth — the  Christians  jeal- 
ous on  one  hand,  the  Jews  suspicious  on  the  other.  I 
could  not  risk  the  Christians  laughing  at  my  bad  German 
— that  would  hurt  my  Idea.  And  English  is  a  language 
like  the  Vale  of  Siddim — full  of  pits." 

"We  ought  to  have  it  translated,"  said  Hulda.  "Not 
only  for  the  Christians,  but  for  the  rich  Jews,  who  are 
more  liberal-minded  than  those  who  live  in  our  quarter." 

"But  we  cannot  afford  to  pay  for  the  translating  now," 
said  Zussmann. 

"Nonsense  ;  one  has  always  a  jewel  left,"  said  Hulda. 

Zussmann's  eyes  grew  wet.  "Yes,"  he  said,  drawing 
her  to  his  breast,  "one  has  always  a  jewel  left." 

"More    meshuggas !"   cried    the    Red    Beadle    huskily. 

463 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"^Much  the  English  Jews  care  about  ideas!  Did  they 
even  acknowledge  your  book  in  their  journals  ?  But  prob- 
ably they  couldn't  read  it,"  he  added  with  a  laugh.  *'A 
fat  lot  of  Hebrew  little  Sampson  knows  !  You  know  lit- 
tle Sampson — he  came  to  report  the  boot-strike  for  The 
Flag  of  Judali.  I  got  into  conversation  with  him — a  rank 
pork-gorger.  He  believes  with  me  that  Nature  makes 
herself." 

But  Zussmann  was  scarcely  eating,  much  less  listening. 

"  You  have  given  me  a  new  scheme,  Hulda,"  he  said, 
with  exaltation.  "I  will  send  my  book  to  the  leading 
English  Jews — yes,  especially  to  the  ministers.  They  will 
see  my  Idea,  they  will  spread  it  abroad,  they  will  convert 
first  the  Jews  and  then  the  Christians." 

*'Yes,  but  they  will  give  it  as  their  own  Idea,"  said 
Ilulda. 

"And  what  then?  He  who  has  faith  in  an  Idea,  his 
Idea  it  is.  How  great  for  me  to  have  had  the  Idea  first ! 
Is  not  that  enough  to  thank  God  for  ?  If  only  my  Idea 
gets  spread  in  English  !  English  !  Have  you  ever  thought 
what  that  means,  Hulda  ?  The  language  of  the  future  ! 
Already  the  language  of  the  greatest  nations,  and  the  most 
on  the  lips  of  men  everywhere — in  a  century  it  will  cover 
the  world."  He  murmured  in  Hebrew,  uplifting  his  eyes 
to  the  rain-streaked  sloping  ceiling.  "  And  in  that  day 
God  shall  be  One  and  His  name  Oiie." 

"Your  supper  is  getting  cold,"  said  Ilulda  gently. 

He  began  to  Avield  his  knife  and  fork  as  hypnotized  by 
her  suggestion,  but  his  vision  was  inwards. 


THE    CONCILIA  TOE    OF   CHRISTENDOM 


IV 

Fifty  copies  of  The  Brotherliood  of  the  Peoples  went  off 
by  post  the  next  day  to  the  clergy  and  gentry  of  the  larger 
Jewry.  In  the  course  of  the  next  fortnight  seventeen  of 
the  recipients  acknowledged  the  receipt  with  formal  thanks, 
four  sent  the  shilling  mentioned  on  the  cover,  and  one  sent 
five  shillings.  This  last  depressed  Zussmann  more  than  all 
the  others.  "  Does  he  take  me  for  a  Schnorrer  9"  he  said, 
almost  angrily,  as  he  returned  the  postal  order. 

He  did  not  forsee  the  day  when,  a  Schnorrer  indeed,  he 
would  have  taken  five  shillings  from  anybody  who  could 
afford  it :  had  no  prophetic  intuition  of  that  long,  slow 
progression  of  penurious  days  which  was  to  break  down 
his  spirit.  For  though  he  managed  for  a  time  to  secure 
enough  work  to  keep  himself  and  the  Red  Beadle  going, 
his  ruin  was  only  delayed.  Little  by  little  his  apparatus 
was  sold  off,  his  benches  and  polishing-irons  vanished  from 
the  garret,  only  one  indispensable  set  remaining,  and  master 
and  man  must  needs  quest  each  for  himself  for  work  else- 
where. The  Red  Beadle  dropped  out  of  the  menage,  and 
was  reduced  to  semi-starvation.  Zussmann  and  Hulda,  by 
the  gradual  disposition  of  their  bits  of  jewellery  and  their 
Sabbath  garments,  held  out  a  little  longer,  and  Hulda  also 
got  some  sewing  of  children's  under-garments.  But  with 
the  return  of  winter,  Hulda's  illness  returned,  and  then 
the  beloved  books  began  to  leave  bare  the  nakedness  of  the 
plastered  walls.  At  first,  Hulda,  refusing  to  be  visited  by 
doctors  who  charged,  struggled  out  bravely  through  rain 
and  fog  to  a  free  dispensary,  where  she  was  jostled  by  a 
crowd  of  head-shawled  Polish  crones,  and  where  a  harassed 
Christian  physician,  tired  of  jargon -speaking  Jewesses, 
bawled  and  bullied.  But  at  last  Hulda  grew  too  ill  to  stir 
3g  465 


DEEAMEES    OF    THE    GHETTO 

out,  and  Zussniann,  still  out  of  employment,  was  driven  to 
look  about  him  for  help.  Charities  enough  there  Avere  in 
the  Ghetto,  but  to  charity,  as  to  work,  one  requires  an  ap- 
prenticeship. He  knew  vaguely  that  there  were  persons 
who  had  the  luck  to  be  ill  and  to  get  broths  and  jellies. 
To  others,  also,  a  board  of  guardian  angels  doled  out  pay- 
ments, though  some  one  had  once  told  him  you  had  scant 
chance  unless  you  were  a  Dutchman.  But  the  inexperi- 
enced in  begging  are  naturally  not  so  successful  us  those 
always  at  it.  'Twas  vain  for  Zussmann  to  kick  his  heels 
among  the  dismal  crowd  in  the  corridor,  the  whisper  of  his 
misdeeds  had  been  before  him,  borne  by  some  competitor 
in  the  fierce  struggle  for  assistance.  What !  help  a  hypo- 
crite to  sit  on  the  twin  stools  of  Christendom  and  Judaism, 
fed  by  the  bounty  of  both!  In  this  dark  hour  he  was  ap- 
proached by  the  thin  -  nosed  gentlewomen,  who  had  got 
wind  of  his  book  and  who  scented  souls.  Zussmann  wa- 
vered. Why,  indeed,  should  he  refuse  their  assistance  ? 
He  knew  their  self-sacrificing  days,  their  genuine  joy  in 
salvation.  On  their  generosities  he  was  far  better  posted 
than  on  Jewish — the  lurid  legend  of  these  Mephistophelian 
matrons  included  blankets,  clothes,  port  wine,  and  all  the 
delicacies  of  the  season.  He  admitted  that  Hulda  had  in- 
deed been  brought  low,  and  permitted  them  to  call.  Then 
he  went  home  to  cut  dry  bread  for  the  bedridden,  emaci- 
ated creature  who  had  once  been  beautiful,  and  to  comfort 
her — for  it  Avas  Friday  evening — by  reading  the  Sabbath 
prayers ;  winding  up,  ''  A  virtuous  woman  Avho  can  find  ? 
For  her  price  is  far  above  rubies." 

On  the  forenoon  of  the  next  day  arrived  a  basket,  scent- 
ing the  air  with  delicious  odors  of  exquisite  edibles. 

Zussmann  received  it  with  delight  from  the  boy  who 
bore  it.  "God  bless  them!"  he  said.  "A  chicken — 
grapes — wine.     Look,  Hulda  !" 

466 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CIIEISTENDOM 

Iliilda  raised  herself  in  bed  ;  her  eyes  sparkled,  a  flush 
of  color  returned  to  the  wan  cheeks. 

"  Where  do  these  come  from  ?'"  she  asked. 

Zussmann  hesitated.  Then  he  told  her  they  were  the 
harbingers  of  a  visit  from  the  good  sisters. 

The  flush  in  her  cheek  deepened  to  scarlet. 

"  My  poor  Zussmann  I"  she  cried  reproachfully.  "  Give 
them  back  —  give  them  back  at  once  !  Call  after  the 
boy." 

"  Why  ?"  stammered  Zussmann. 

"  Call  after  the  boy  !"  she  repeated  imperatively.  "Good 
God  !  If  the  ladies  were  to  be  seen  coming  up  here,  it 
would  be  all  over  with  your  Idea.  And  on  the  Sabbath, 
too  !  Peoj)le  already  look  upon  you  as  a  tool  of  the  mis- 
sionaries.    Quick  I  quick  I" 

His  heart  aching  with  mingled  love  and  pain,  he  took  up 
the  basket  and  hurried  after  the  boy.  Hulda  sank  back 
on  her  pillow  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Dear  heart  !"  she  thought,  as  she  took  advantage  of 
his  absence  to  cough  freely.  "For  me  he  does  what  he 
would  starve  rather  than  do  for  himself.  A  nice  thing  to 
imperil  his  Idea — the  dream  of  his  life  !  When  the  Jews 
see  he  makes  no  profit  by  it,  they  Aviil  begin  to  consider  it. 
If  he  did  not  have  the  burden  of  me  he  would  not  be 
tempted.  He  could  go  out  more  and  find  Avork  farther 
afield.  This  must  end — I  must  die  or  be  on  my  feet  again 
soon.'" 

Zussmann  came  back,  empty-handed  and  heavy-hearted. 

"  Kiss  me,  my  own  life  \"  she  cried.  "  I  shall  be  better 
soon." 

He  bent  down  and  touched  her  hot,  dry  lips.  "Now  I 
see,"  she  whispered,  "  why  God  did  not  send  us  children. 
We  thought  it  was  an  affliction,  but  lo  !  it  is  that  your 
Idea  shall  not  be  hindered." 

467 


DREAMERS    OF   THE    GHETTO 

"The  English  Rabbis  have  not  yet  drawn  attention  to 
it,"  said  Zussmann  huskily. 

"All  the  better,"  replied  Hnlda.  "  One  day  it  will  be 
translated  into  English — I  know  it,  I  feel  it  here."  She 
touched  her  chest,  and  the  action  made  her  cough. 

Going  out  later  for  a  little  fresh  air,  at  Hulda's  insist- 
ence, he  was  stopped  in  the  broad  hall  on  which  the  stairs 
debouched  by  Cohen,  the  ground -floor  tenant,  a  black- 
bearded  Russian  Jew,  pompous  in  Sabbath  broadcloth. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  my  milk  ?"  abruptly  asked 
Cohen,  who  supplied  the  local  trade  besides  selling  retail. 
"  You  might  have  complained,  instead  of  taking  your  cus- 
tom out  of  the  house.  Believe  me,  I  don't  make  a  treasure 
heap  out  of  it.  One  has  to  be  up  at  Euston  to  meet  the 
trains  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  the  competition  is 
so  cut-throat  that  one  has  to  sell  at  eighteen  pence  a  barn 
gallon.  And  on  Sabbath  one  earns  nothing  at  all.  And 
then  the  analyst  comes  poking  his  nose  into  the  milk." 

"You  see — my  Avife — my  wife — is  ill,"  stammered  Zuss- 
mann.    "  So  she  doesn't  drink  it." 

"Hum!"  said  Cohen.  "Well,  you  might  oblige  me 
then.  I  have  so  much  left  over  every  day,  it  makes  my 
reputation  turn  quite  sour.  Do,  do  me  a  favor  and  let  me 
send  you  up  a  can  of  the  leavings  every  night.  For  noth- 
ing, of  course  ;  would  I  talk  business  on  the  Sabbath  ?  I 
don't  like  to  be  seen  pouring  it  away.  It  would  pay  me  to 
pay  you  a  penny  a  pint,"  he  wound  up  emphatically. 

Zussmann  accepted  unsuspiciously,  grateful  to  Provi- 
dence for  enabling  him  to  benefit  at  once  liimself  and  his 
neighbor.  He  bore  a  can  upstairs  now  and  explained  the 
situation  to  the  shrewder  Hulda,  who,  however,  said  noth- 
ing but,  "You  see  the  Idea  commences  to  work.  AVhen  the 
book  first  came  out,  didn't  he — though  he  sells  secretly  to 
the  trade  on  Sabbath  mornings — call  you  an  Epicurean  ?" 

468 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

"  Worse/'  said  Zussmann  Joyously,  with  a  flash  of  recol- 
lection. 

He  went  out  again,  lightened  and  exalted.  "Yes,  the 
Idea  works,"  he  said,  as  he  came  out  into  the  gray  street. 
"  The  Brotherhood  of  the  Peoples  Avill  come,  not  in  my 
time,  but  it  will  come."  And  he  murmured  again  the 
Hebrew  aspiration:  ''In  that  day  shall  God  be  One  and 
His  name  One." 

"  Whoa,  Where's  your eyes  ?" 

Awakened  by  the  oath,  he  Just  got  out  of  the  way  of  a 
huge  Flemish  dray-horse  dragging  a  brewer's  cart.  Three 
ragged  Irish  urchins,  who  had  been  buffeting  each  other 
Avith  Avhirling  hats  knotted  into  the  ends  of  dingy  hand- 
kerchiefs, relaxed  their  enmities  in  a  common  rush  for  the 
projecting  ladder  behind  the  dray  and  collided  with  Zuss- 
mann on  the  way.  A  one-legged,  misery-eyed  hunchback 
offered  him  penny  diaries.  He  shook  his  head  in  impotent 
pity,  and  passed  on,  pondering. 

"In  time  God  will  make  the  crooked  straight,"  he 
thought. 

Jews  with  tall  black  hats  and  badly  made  frock-coats 
slouched  along,  their  shoulders  bent.  Wives  stood  at  the 
open  doors  of  the  old  houses,  some  in  Sabbath  finery, 
some  flaunting  irreligiously  their  every  -  day  shabbiness, 
Avithout  troubling  even  to  arrange  their  one  dress  differ- 
ently, as  a  pious  Rabbi  recommended.  They  looked  used- 
up  and  haggard,  all  these  mothers  in  Israel.  But  there 
Avere  dark-eyed  damsels  still  gay  and  fresh,  Avith  artistic 
bodices  of  violet  and  green  picked  out  with  gold  arabesque. 

He  turned  a  corner  and  came  into  a  narrow  street  that 
throbbed  Avith  the  joyous  melody  of  a  piano-organ.  His 
heart  leapt  up.  The  roadAvay  bubbled  Avith  JcAvish  chil- 
dren, mainly  girls,  footing  it  gleefully  in  the  graying  light, 
inventing  complex  steps  Avith  a  grace  and  an  abandon  that 

469 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

lit  their  eyes  with  sparkles  and  painted  deeper  flushes  on 
their  olive  cheeks.  A  bounding  little  bow-legged  girl 
seemed  unconscious  of  her  deformity ;  her  toes  met  each 
other  as  tliough  in  merry  dexterity. 

Zussmann's  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  "Dance  on,  dance 
on/'  he  murmured.  "  God  sliall  indeed  make  the  crooked 
straight." 

Fixed  to  one  side  of  the  piano-organ  on  the  level  of  the 
handle  he  saw  a  little  box,  in  which  lay,  as  in  a  cradle, 
Avhat  looked  like  a  monkey,  then  like  a  doll,  but  on  closer 
inspection  turned  into  a  tiny  live  child,  flaxen-haired,  star- 
ing with  Avide  gray  eyes  from  under  a  blue  cap,  and  suck- 
ing at  a  milk-bottle  with  preternatural  placidity,  regardless 
of  the  music  throbbing  through  its  resting-place. 

"Even  so  shall  humanity  live,"  thought  Zussmann, 
"peaceful  as  a  babe,  cradled  in  music.  God  hath  sent 
me  a  sign." 

He  returned  home,  comforted,  and  told  Hulda  of  the 
sign. 

"  AVas  it  an  Italian  child  ?"  she  asked. 

"  An  English  child,"  he  answered.  "  Fair-eyed  and  fair- 
haired." 

"  Then  it  is  a  sign  that  througli  the  English  tongue  shall 
the  Idea  move  the  world.  Your  book  will  be  translated 
into  English — I  shall  live  to  see  it." 


A  FEW  afternoons  later  the  Red  Beadle,  his  patched  gar- 
ments pathetically  spruced  up,  came  to  sec  his  friends, 
goaded  by  the  news  of  Hulda's  illness.  There  was  no 
ruddiness  in  his  face,  the  lips  of  which  were  pressed  to- 
getlier  in  defiance  of  a  cruel  and  credulous  world.     That 

470 


THE    CONCILIATOK    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

Nature  in  making  herself  should  have  produced  creatures 
who  attributed  their  creation  elsewhere,  and  who  refused 
to  allow  her  one  acknowledger  to  make  boots,  was  indeed 
a  proof,  albeit  vexatious,  of  her  blind  workings. 

When  he  saw  what  she  had  done  to  Hulda  and  to  Zuss- 
mann,  his  lips  w^ere  pressed  tighter,  but  as  much  to  keep 
back  a  sob  as  to  express  extra  resentment. 

But  on  parting  he  could  not  help  saying  to  Zussmann, 
who  accompanied  him  to  the  dark  spider-webbed  landing, 
"  Your  God  has  forgotten  you." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  men  have  forgotten  Him  ?"  replied 
Zussmann.  *'If  I  am  come  to  poverty,  my  suffering  is  in 
the  scheme  of  things.  Do  you  not  remember  what  the  Al- 
mighty says  to  Eleazar  ben  Pedos,  in  the  Talmud,  when  the 
Rabbi  complains  of  poverty  ?  '  Wilt  thou  be  satisfied  if 
I  overthrow  the  universe,  so  that  perhaps  thou  mayest  be 
created  again  in  a  time  of  plenty  ?'  No,  no,  my  friend, 
we  must  trust  the  scheme." 

"But  the  fools  enjoy  prosperity,"  said  the  Red  Beadle. 

"It  is  only  a  fool  who  would  enjoy  prosperity,"  replied 
Zussmann.  "If  the  righteous  sometimes  suffer  and  the 
wicked  sometimes  flourish,  that  is  just  the  very  condition 
of  virtue.  What !  would  you  have  righteousness  always 
pay  and  wickedness  always  fail  !  Where  then  would  be 
the  virtue  in  virtue  ?  It  would  be  a  mere  branch  of  com- 
merce. Do  you  forget  what  the  Chassid  said  of  the  man 
who  foreknew  in  his  lifetime  that  for  him  there  was  to  be 
no  heaven?  'What  a  unique  and  enviable  chance  that 
man  had  of  doing  right  without  fear  of  reward  !' " 

The  Red  Beadle,  as  usual,  acquiesced  in  the  idea  that 
he  had  forgotten  these  quotations  from  the  Hebrew,  but 
to  acquiesce  in  their  teachings  was  another  matter.  "A 
man  who  had  no  hope  of  heaven  would  be  a  fool  not  to  en- 
joy himself,"  he  said  doggedly,  and  went  downstairs,  his 

471 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

heart  almost  bursting.  He  went  straight  to  his  old  syna- 
gogue, Avhere  he  knew  a  Hesped  or  funeral  service  on  a  fa- 
mous Maggid  (preacher)  was  to  be  held.  He  could  scarce- 
ly get  in,  so  dense  was  the  throng.  Not  a  few  eyes,  wet 
Avith  tears,  Avere  turned  angrily  on  him  as  on  a  mocker 
come  to  gloat,  but  he  hastened  to  weep  too,  which  was 
easy  when  he  thought  of  Hulda  coughing  in  her  bed  in  the 
garret.  So  violently  did  he  weep  that  the  Gahbai  or  treas- 
urer— one  of  the  most  pious  master-bootmakers — gave  him 
the  "Peace"  salutation  after  the  service. 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you  weeping,"  said  he. 

"Alas  !"  answered  the  Red  Beadle.  "  It  is  not  only  the 
fallen  Prince  in  Israel  that  I  weep  ;  it  is  my  own  trans- 
gressions that  are  brought  home  to  me  by  his  sudden  end. 
How  often  have  I  heard  him  thunder  and  lighten  from  this 
very  pulpit  I"  He  heaved  a  deep  sigh  at  his  own  hypocrisy, 
and  the  Gabbed  sighed  in  response.  "  Even  from  the  grave 
the  Tsaddik  (saint)  Avorks  good,"  said  the  pious  master- 
bootmaker.     "  May  my  latter  end  be  like  his  !" 

"Mine,  too  I"  suspired  the  Red  Beadle.  "How  blessed 
am  I  not  to  have  been  cut  off  in  my  sin,  denying  the  Maker 
of  Nature  !"     They  walked  along  the  street  together. 

The  next  morning,  at  the  luncheon  -  hour,  a  breathless 
Beadle,  with  a  red  beard  and  a  very  red  face,  knocked  joy- 
ously at  the  door  of  the  Herz  garret. 

"I  am  in  Avork  again,"  he  explained. 

"Mazzeltov !"  Zussmann  gave  him  the  Hebrew  congrat- 
ulation, but  softly,  with  finger  on  liji,  to  indicate  Hulda 
was  asleep.     "  With  Avliom  ?" 

"Harris  the  Gabhai." 

"Harris  !     What,  despite  your  opinions  ?" 

The  Red  Beadle  looked  aAvay. 

"So  it  seems  I" 

"  Thank  God  !"  said  Hulda.     "  The  Idea  works." 

472 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

Both  men  turned  to  the  bed,  startled  to  see  her  sitting 
up  with  a  rapt  smile. 

''How  so  ?"  said  the  Red  Beadle  uneasily.  "1  am  not 
a  Got/  (Christian)  befriended  by  a  Gdbhai." 

"No,  but  it  is  the  brotherhood  of  humanity." 

"  Bother  the  brotherhood  of  humanity,  Eran  Herz  !"  said 
the  Red  Beadle  gruffly.  He  glanced  round  the  denuded 
room.  "  The  important  thing  is  that  you  will  now  be  able 
to  have  a  few  delicacies." 

'<■  jf    Hulda  opened  her  eyes  wide. 

"  Who  else  ?     What  I  earn  is  for  all  of  us." 

"  God  bless  you  !"  said  Zussmann ;  "  but  you  have  enough 
to  do  to  keep  yourself." 

"Indeed  he  has  !"  said  Hulda.  "We  couldn't  dream  of 
taking  a  farthing  !"     But  her  eyes  were  wet. 

"I  insist !"  said  the  Red  Beadle. 

She  thanked  him  sweetly,  but  held  firm. 

"I  will  advance  the  money  on  loan  till  Zussmann  gets 
work." 

Zussmann  wavered,  his  eyes  beseeching  her,  but  she  was 
inflexible. 

The  Red  Bea'dle  lost  his  temper.  "  And  this  is  what 
you  call  the  brotherhood  of  humanity  I" 

"He  is  right,  Hulda.  Why  should  we  not  take  from 
one  another  ?     Pride  perverts  brotherhood." 

"  Dear  husband,"  said  Hulda,  "  it  is  not  pride  to  refuse 
to  rob  the  poor.  Besides,  what  delicacies  do  I  need  ?  Is 
not  this  a  land  flowing  with  milk  ?" 

"  You  take  Cohen's  milk  and  refuse  my  honey  !"  shouted 
the  Red  Beadle  unappeased. 

"  Give  me  of  the  honey  of  your  tongue  and  I  shall  not 
refuse  it,"  said  Hulda,  with  that  wonderful  smile  of  hers 
which  showed  the  white  teeth  Nature  had  made  ;  the  smile 
which,  as  always,  melted  the  Beadle's  mood.     That  smile 

473 


UEEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

could  repair  all  the  ravages  of  disease  and  give  back  her 
memoried  face. 

After  the  Beadle  had  been  at  work  a  day  or  two  in  the 
Gahhai's  workshop,  he  broached  the  matter  of  a  fellow- 
penitent,  one  Zussmann  Herz,  Avitli  no  work  and  a  bedrid- 
den wife. 

''That  Meslmmmad !"  (apostate)  cried  the  Gabbed.  "He 
deserves  all  that  God  has  sent  him." 

Undaunted,  the  Eed  Beadle  demonstrated  that  the  man 
could  not  be  of  the  missionary  camp,  else  had  he  not  been 
left  to  starve,  one  converted  Jew  being  worth  a  thousand 
pounds  of  fresh  subscriptions.  Moreover  he,  the  Eed 
Beadle,  had  now  convinced  the  man  of  his  spiritual  errors, 
and  The  BrotherJiood  of  the  Peoples  was  no  longer  on  sale. 
Also,  being  unable  to  leave  his  wife's  bedside,  Zussmann 
would  do  the  work  at  home  below  the  Union  rates  prevalent 
in  public.  So,  trade  being  brisk,  the  Gabbai  relented  and 
bargained,  and  the  Eed  Beadle  sped  to  his  friend's  abode 
and  flew  up  the  four  flights  of  stairs. 

"Good  news  I"  he  cried.  "The  Gabbai  wants  another 
hand,  and  he  is  ready  to  take  you." 

"  Me  ?"    Zussmann  was  paralyzed  with  joy  and  surprise. 

"  Now  will  you  deny  that  the  Idea  works  ?"  cried  Hulda, 
her  face  flushed  and  her  eyes  glittering.  And  she  fell 
a-coughing. 

"  You  are  right,  Hulda  ;  you  are  always  right,"  cried 
Zussmann,  in  responsive  radiance.  "  Thank  God  I  Thank 
God  !" 

"  God  forgive  me,"  muttered  the  Eed  Beadle. 

" Go  at  once,  Zussmann,"  said  Hulda.  "I  shall  do  very 
well  here — this  has  given  me  strength.  I  shall  be  up  in  a 
day  or  two;" 

"No,  no,  Zussmann,"  said  the  Beadle  hurriedly.  "  There 
is  no  need  to  leave  your  wife.    I  have  arranged  it  all.    The 

474 


THE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

Gabbai  does  not  want  yon  to  come  there  or  to  speak  to 
him,  because,  though  the  Idea  works  in  him,  the  other 
*  hands '  are  not  yet  so  large-minded :  I  am  to  bring  you 
the  orders,  and  I  shall  come  here  to  fetch  them." 

The  set  of  tools  to  which  Zussmann  clung  in  desperate 
hope  made  the  plan  both  feasible  and  pleasant. 

And  so  the  Red  Beadle's  visits  resumed  their  ancient 
frequency  even  as  his  Sabbath  clothes  resumed  their  an- 
cient gloss,  and  every  week's-end  he  paid  over  Zussmann's 
wages  to  him — full  Union  rate. 

But  Hulda,  although  she  now  accepted  illogically  the 
Red  Beadle's  honey  in  various  shapes,  did  not  appear  to 
progress  as  much  as  the  Idea,  or  as  the  new  book  which 
she  stimulated  Zussmann  to  start  for  its  further  propa- 
gation. 

VI 

One  Friday  evening  of  December,  when  miry  snow  un- 
derfoot and  grayish  fog  all  around  combined  to  make  Spit- 
alfields  a  malarious  marsh,  the  Red  Beadle,  coming  in  with 
the  week's  wages,  found  to  his  horror  a  doctor  hovering 
over  Hulda's  bed  like  the  shadow  of  death. 

From  the  look  that  Zussmann  gave  him  he  saw  a  sudden 
chaugo  for  the  worse  had  set  in.  The  cold  of  the  Aveather 
seemed  to  strike  right  to  his  heart.  He  took  the  sufferer's 
limp  chill  hand. 

"How  goes  it  ?"  he  said  cheerily. 

"A  trifle  weak.     But  I  shall  be  better  soon." 

He  turned  away.  Zussmann  whispered  to  him  that  the 
doctor  Avho  had  been  called  in  that  morning  had  found 
the  crisis  so  threatening  that  he  Avas  come  again  in  the 
evening. 

The  Red  Beadle,  grown  very  white,  accompanied  the 

475 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

doctor  downstairs,  and  learned  that  with  care  the  patient 
might  pull  through. 

The  Beadle  felt  like  tearing  out  his  red  beard.  "And  to 
think  that  I  have  not  yet  arranged  the  matter  !"  he  thought 
distractedly. 

He  ran  through  the  gray  bleak  night  to  the  office  of  The 
Flag  of  Jiidah;  but  as  he  was  crossing  the  threshold  he 
remembered  that  it  was  the  eve  of  the  Sabbath,  and  that 
neither  little  Sampson  nor  anybody  else  Avould  be  there. 
But  little  Sampson  ^vas  there,  working  busily. 

"  Hullo  !     Come  in,"  he  said,  astonished. 

The  Red  Beadle  had  already  struck  up  a  drinking  ac- 
quaintanceship with  the  little  journalist,  in  view  of  the 
great  negotiation  he  was  plotting.  Not  in  vain  did  the 
proverbial  wisdom  of  the  Ghetto  bid  one  beware  of  the  red- 
haired. 

"  I  won't  keep  you  five  minutes,"  apologized  little  Samp- 
son. "  But,  you  see,  Christmas  comes  next  week,  and  the 
compositors  won't  work.  So  I  have  to  invent  the  news  in 
advance." 

Presently  little  Sampson,  lighting  an  unhallowed  cigar- 
ette by  way  of  Sabbath  lamp,  and  slinging  on  his  shabby 
cloak,  repaired  with  the  Red  Beadle  to  a  restaurant,  where 
he  ordered  "forbidden"  food  for  himself  and  drinks  for 
both. 

The  Red  Beadle  felt  his  way  so  cautiously  and  cunning- 
ly that  the  negotiation  was  unduly  prolonged.  After  an 
hour  or  two,  however,  all  was  settled.  For  five  pounds, 
paid  in  five  monthly  instalments,  little  Sampson  would 
translate  The  Brotherhood  of  the  Peoples  into  English,  pro- 
vided the  Beadle  would  tell  him  what  the  Hebrew  meant. 
This  the  Beadle,  from  his  loving  study  of  Ilulda's  manu- 
script, was  now  prepared  for.  Little  Sampson  also  prom- 
ised to  run  the  translation  through  The  Flag  of  Judah,  and 

476 


rHE    CONCILIATOR    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

;hus  the  Beadle  could  buy  the  plates  cheap  for  book  pur- 
loses,  with  only  the  extra  cost  of  printing  such  passages, 
f  any,  as  were  too  dangerous  for  The  Flag  of  Judali.  This 
.luexpected  generosity,  coupled  with  the  new  audience  it 
)ffered  the  Idea,  enchanted  the  Red  Beadle.  He  did  not 
jee  that  the  journalist  was  getting  gratuitous  "copy,""  he 
saw  only  the  bliss  of  Hulda  and  Zussmann,  and  in  some 
strange  exaltation,  compact  of  whisky  and  affection,  he 
shared  in  their  vision  of  the  miraculous  spread  of  the  Idea, 
snce  it  had  got  into  the  dominant  language  of  the  world. 

In  his  gratitude  to  little  Sampson  he  plied  him  with 
fresh  whisky  ;  in  his  excitement  he  drew  the  paper-covered 
30ok  from  his  pocket,  and  insisted  that  the  journalist  must 
translate  the  first  page  then  and  there,  as  a  hansel.  By 
the  time  it  was  done  it  was  near  eleven  o'clock.  Vaguely 
the  Red  Beadle  felt  that  it  was  too  late  to  return  to  Zuss- 
maun's  to-night.  Besides,  he  was  liking  little  Sampson 
i'ery  much.  They  did  not  separate  till  the  restaurant  closed 
it  midnight. 

Quite  drunk,  the  Red  Beadle  staggered  towards  Zuss- 
tnann's  house.  He  held  the  page  of  the  translation  tightly 
in  his  hand.  The  Hebrew  original  he  had  forgotten  on  the 
restaurant  table,  but  he  knew  in  some  troubled  nightmare 
way  that  Zussmann  and  Hulda  must  see  that  paper  at  once, 
that  he  had  been  charged  to  deliver  it  safely,  and  must  die 
sooner  than  disobey. 

The  fog  had  lifted,  but  the  heaps  of  snow  Avere  a  terrible 
hindrance  to  his  erratic  progression.  The  cold  air  and  the 
shock  of  a  fall  lessened  his  inebriety,  but  the  imperative 
impulse  of  his  imaginary  mission  still  hypnotized  him.  It 
was  past  one  before  he  reached  the  tall  house.  He  did  not 
think  it  at  all  curious  that  the  great  outer  portals  should 
be  open  ;  nor,  though  he  saw  the  milk-cart  at  the  door, 
and  noted  Cohen's  uncomfortable  look,  did  he  remember 

477 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

that  he  had  discovered  the  milk-purveyor  noctiirnally  in- 
fringing the  Sabbath.  He  stumbled  np  the  stairs  and 
knocked  at  the  garret  door,  through  the  chinks  of  which 
light  streamed.  The  thought  of  Hulda  smote  him  almost 
sober.  Zussmann's  face,  when  the  door  opened,  restoj'ed 
him  completely  to  his  senses.     It  was  years  older. 

**She  is  not  dead  ?"  the  visitor  Avliispercd  hoarsely. 

''She  is  dying,  I  fear — she  cannot  rouse  herself."  Zuss- 
mann's voice  broke  in  a  sob. 

''But  she  must  not  die — I  bring  great  news — Tlie  Flag 
of  Judah  has  read  your  book — it  will  translate  it  into  Eng- 
lish—  it  will  print  it  in  its  own  paper  —  and  then  it  will 
make  a  book  of  it  for  you.     See,  here  is  the  beginning  !" 

"Into  English  V  breathed  Zussmann,  taking  the  little 
journalist's  scrawl.  His  Avhole  face  grew  crimson,  his  eye 
shone  as  with  madness.  "  Hulda  !  Hulda  !"  he  cried,  "  the 
Idea  works  !  God  be  thanked  !  English  I  Through  the 
world  !  Hulda  !  Hulda  !"  He  was  bending  over  her,  rais- 
ing her  head.  J 

She  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Hulda  !  the  Idea  wins.  The  book  is  coming  out  in 
English.  The  great  English  paper  will  print  it.  In  that 
day  God  shall  be  One  and  His  name  One.  Do  you  under- 
stand ?"  Her  lips  twitched  faintly,  but  only  her  eyes  spoke 
with  the  light  of  love  and  joy.  His  own  look  met  hers,  and 
for  a  moment  husband  and  wife  were  one  in  a  spiritual 
ecstasy. 

Then  the  light  in  Hulda's  eyes  went  out,  and  the  two 
men  were  left  in  darkness. 

The  Red  Beadle  turned  away  and  left  Zussmann  to  his 
dead,  and,  with  scalding  tears  running  down  his  cheek, 
pulled  up  the  cotton  window  blind  and  gazed  out  unseeing 
into  the  night. 

Presently  liis  vision  cleared  :  he  found  himself  watching 

478 


THE    CONCILIATOK    OF    CHRISTENDOM 

the  milk-cart  drive  off,  and,  following  it  towards  the  frowsy 
avenue  of  Brick  Lane,  he  beheld  what  seemed  to  be  a 
drunken  fight  in  progress.  He  saw  a  policeman,  gesticu- 
lating females,  the  nondescript  nocturnal  crowd  of  the 
sleepless  city.  The  old  dull  hopelessness  came  over  him. 
**  Nature  makes  herself,''  he  murmured  in  despairing  resig- 
nation. 

Suddenly  he  became  aware   that  Zussmann  was  beside 
him,  looking  up  at  the  stars. 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 


"  Well,  what  are  you  gaping  at  ?  Why  the  devil  don't 
you  say  something  ?"  And  all  the  impatience  of  the  rapt 
artist  at  being  interrupted  by  anything  but  praise  was  in 
the  outburst. 

"Holy  Moses  V  I  gasped.  "  Give  a  man  a  chance  to  get 
his  breath.  I  fall  through  a  dark  antechamber  over  a  bi- 
cycle, stumble  round  a  screen,  and — smack  !  a  glare  of 
Oriental  sunlight  from  a  gigantic  canvas,  the  vibration  and 
glow  of  a  group  of  joyous  figures,  reeking  with  life  and 
sweat  !  You  the  Idealist,  the  seeker  after  Nature's  beauti- 
ful moods  and  Art's  beautiful  patterns  !" 

"Beautiful  moods!"  he  echoed  angrily.  "And  why 
isn't  this  a  beautiful  mood  ?  And  what  more  beautiful 
pattern  than  this  —  look  !  this  line,  this  sweep,  this  group 
here,  this  clinging  of  the  chihlrcn  round  this  mass — all  in 
a  glow — balanced  by  this  mass  of  cool  shadow.  The  mean- 
ing doesn't  interfere  with  the  pattern,  you  chump  !" 

"  Oh,  so  there  is  a  meaning  I  You've  become  an  anecdotal 
painter." 

"Adjectives  be  hanged !  I  can't  talk  theory  in  the  pre- 
cious dayliglit.     If  you  can't  see —  !" 

"I  can  see  that  you  are  painting  something  you  haven't 
seen.     You  haven't  been  in  the  East,  have  you  ?" 

"If  I  had,  I  haven't  got  time  to  jaw  about  it  now.  Come 

480 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 

and  have  an  absinthe  at  the  Caf6  Victor — in  memory  of  old 
Paris  days — Sixth  Avenue  — any  of  the  boys  Avill  tell  yon. 
Let  me  see,  daylight  till  six  —  half-past  six.  A  u  'voir,  au 
'voir." 

As  I  went  down  the  steep,  dark  stairs,  "  Same  old  Dan," 
I  thought.  "  Who  would  imagine  I  was  a  stranger  in  New 
York  looking  up  an  old  fellow  -  struggler  on  his  native 
heath  ?  If  1  didn't  know  better,  I  might  fancy  his  tremen- 
dous success  had  given  him  the  same  opinion  of  himself 
that  America  has  of  him.  But  no,  nothing  will  change 
him  ;  the  same  furious  devotion  to  his  canvas  once  he  has 
quietly  planned  his  picture,  the  same  obstinate  conviction 
that  he  is  seeing  something  in  the  only  right  way.  And  yet 
something  Jias  changed  him.  AVhy  has  his  brush  suddenly 
gone  East  ?  Why  this  new  kind  of  composition  crowded 
with  figures — ancient  Jews,  too  ?  Has  he  been  taken  with 
piet}',  and  is  he  going  henceforward  ostentatiously  to  pro- 
claim his  race  ?  And  who  is  the  cheerful  central  figure 
with  the  fine,  open  face  ?  I  don't  recollect  any  such  scene 
in  Jewish  history,  or  anything  so  joyous.  Perhaps  it's  a 
study  of  modern  Jerusalem  Jews,  to  show  their  life  is  not 
all  Wailing  Wall  and  Jeremiah.  Or  perhaps  it's  only  deco- 
rative. America  is  great  on  decoration  just  now.  No  ;  he 
said  the  picture  had  a  meaning.  AVell,  I  shall  know  all 
about  it  to-night.     Anyhow,  it's  a  beautiful  thing." 

''Same  old  Dan!"  I  thought  even  more  decisively  as, 
when  I  opened  the  door  of  the  little  cafe,  a  burly,  black- 
bearded  figure  with  audacious  eyes  came  at  me  with  a  grip 
and  a  slap  and  a  roar  of  welcome,  and  dragged  me  to  the 
quiet  corner  behind  the  billiard  tables. 

"I've  just  been  opalizing  your  absinthe  for  you,"  he 
laughed,  as  we  sat  down.  ''  But  what's  the  matter  ?  You 
look  kind  o'  scared." 

"It's  your  Inferno  of  a  city.     As  I  turned  the  corner  of 
2u  481 


DEEAMEllS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Sixth  Avenue,  an  elevated  train  came  shrieking  and  rum- 
bling, and  a  swirl  of  wind  swept  screeching  round  and 
round,  enveloping  me  in  a  whirlioool  of  smoke  and  steam, 
until,  dazed  and  choked  in  what  seemed  the  scalding  effer- 
vescence of  a  collision,  I  had  given  up  all  hope  of  ever 
learning  what  your  confounded  picture  meant." 

'"Aha!"  He  took  a  complacent  sip.  "It  stayed  with 
you,  did  it  ?"  And  the  light  of  triumph,  flushing  for  an 
instant  his  rugged  features,  showed  when  it  waned  how  pale 
and  draAvn  they  were  by  the  feverish  tension  of  his  long 
day's  work. 

"Yes  it  did,  old  fellow,"  I  said  affectionately.  "The 
joy  and  the  glow  of  it,  and  yet  also  some  strange  antique 
simplicity  and  restfulness  you  have  got  into  it,  I  know  not 
how,  have  been  with  me  all  day,  comforting  me  in  the 
midst  of  the  tearing,  grinding  life  of  this  closing  nine- 
teenth century  after  Christ." 

A  curious  smile  flitted  across  Dan's  face.  He  tilted  his 
chair  back,  and  rested  his  head  against  the  wall. 

"There's  nothing  that  takes  me  so  much  out  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  after  Christ,"  he  said  dreamil}'-,  "as  this 
little  French  cafe.  It  wafts  me  back  to  my  early  student 
days,  that  lie  somewhere  amid  the  enchanted  mists  of  the 
youth  of  the  world  ;  to  the  zestful  toil  of  the  studios,  to 
the  careless  trips  in  quaint,  gray  Holland  or  flaming,  devil- 
may-care  Spain.  Ah  I  what  scenes  shift  and  sliufllo  in  the 
twinkle  of  the  gits-jet  in  this  opalescent  li([uid  ;  the  hot 
shimmer  of  the  arena  at  the  Seville  bull-fight,  with  its 
swirl  of  color  and  movement ;  the  torchlight  procession  of 
pilgrims  round  the  church  at  Lourdes,  with. the  one  black 
nun  praying  by  herself  in  a  shadowy  corner  ;  the  lovely 
valley  of  tlie  Tauba,  where  the  tinkle  of  the  sheep-bells 
mingles  with  the  Lutheran  hymn  blown  to  the  four  winds 
from  the  old  church  tower  ;  wines  that  were  red — sunshine 

482 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 

that  was  warm — mandolines —  !"  llis  voice  died  away  as 
in  exquisite  reverie. 

''And  the  East  ?'"  I  said  slily. 

A  good-natured  smile  dissipated  his  delicious  dream. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  he  said.     "  My  East  was  the  Tyrol." 

"The  Tyrol  ?    How  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  see  you  won't  let  me  out  of  that  story." 

"  Oh,  there's  a  story,  is  there  ?" 

"  Oh,  well,  perhaps  not  what  you  literary  cliaps  would 
call  a  story  I     No  love-making  in  it,  you  know." 

*'  Then  it  can  wait.     Tell  me  about  your  picture." 

"  But  that's  mixed  up  with  the  story." 

"  Didn't  I  say  you  had  become  an  anecdotal  artist  ?" 

'''It's  no  laughing  matter,"  he  said  gravely.  ''You  re- 
member when  we  jiarted  at  Munich,  a  year  ago  last  spring, 
you  to  go  on  to  Vienna  and  I  to  go  back  to  America.  Well, 
I  had  a  sudden  fancy  to  take  one  last  European  trip  all  by 
myself,  and  started  south  through  the  Tyrol,  Avith  a  pack 
on  my  back.  The  third  day  out  I  fell  and  bruised  my 
tnigli  severely,  and  could  not  make  my  little  mountain  town 
till  moonlight.  And  I  tell  you  I  was  mighty  glad  when 
I  limped  across  the  bridge  over  the  rushing  river  and 
dropped  on  the  hotel  sofa.  Xext  morning  I  was  stiff  as  a 
poker,  but  I  struggled  up  the  four  rickety  flights  to  the 
local  physician,  and  being  assured  I  only  wanted  rest,  I  re- 
solved to  take  it  with  book  and  pipe  and  mug  in  a  shady 
beer-garden  on  the  river.  I  had  been  reading  for  about 
an  hour  when  five  or  six  Tyrolese,  old  men  and  young,  in 
their  gray  and  green  costumes  and  their  little  hats,  trooped 
in  and  occupied  the  large  table  near  the  inn-door.  Pres- 
ently I  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  the  zither;  they  began 
to  sing  songs  ;  the  pretty  daughter  of  the  house  came  and 
joined  in  the  singing.     I  put  down  my  book. 

"The  old  lady  who  served  me  with  my  Alanss  of  beer, 

483 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

seeing  my  interest,  came  over  and  chatted  about  her  guests. 
Oh  no,  they  were  not  villagers  ;  they  came  from  four  hours 
away.  The  slim  one  was  a  school-teacher,  and  the  dicker 
was  a  tenor,  and  sang  in  the  chorus  of  the  Passion- Spiel  ; 
the  good-looking  young  man  was  to  be  the  St.  John.  Pas- 
sion play  !  I  pricked  up  my  ears.  When  ?  Where  ?  In 
their  own  village,  three  days  hence  ;  only  given  once  every 
ten  years  —  for  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years.  Could 
strangers  see  it  ?  What  should  strangers  want  to  see  it 
for  ?  But  coidd  they  see  it  ?  Gewiss.  This  was  indeed  a 
stroke  of  luck.  I  had  always  rather  Avanted  to  see  the 
Passion  play,  but  the  thought  of  the  fashionable  Ober-Am- 
mergau  made  me  sick.  AVould  I  like  to  be  vorgestelU? 
Rather  !  It  was  not  ten  minutes  after  this  introduction 
before  I  had  settled  to  stay  with  St.  John,  and  clouds 
of  good  American  tobacco  were  rising  from  six  Tyrolese 
pipes,  and  many  an  "  Auf  Ihr  Wohl"  was  busying  the 
pretty  Kellnerin.  They  trotted  out  all  their  repertory  of 
quaint  local  songs  for  my  benefit.  It  sounded  bully,  I  tell 
you,  out  there  with  the  sunlight,  and  the  green  leaves,  and 
the  rush  of  the  river  ;  and  in  this  aroma  of  beer  and  broth- 
erhood I  blessed  my  damaged  thigh.  Three  days  hence  ! 
Just  time  for  it  to  heal.     A  providential  world,  after  all. 

"  And  it  was  indeed  with  a  buoyant  step  and  a  gay  heart 
that  I  set  out  over  the  hills  at  sunrise  on  that  memorable 
morning.  The  play  was  to  begin  at  ten,  and  I  should  just 
be  on  time.  What  a  walk  !  Imagine  it !  Clear  coolness 
of  dawn,  fresh  green,  sparkling  dew,  the  road  winding  up 
and  down,  round  hills,  up  cliffs,  along  valleys,  through 
woods,  wliere  the  green  branches  swayed  in  the  morning 
wind  and  dappled  the  grass  fantastically  with  dancing  sun- 
light. And  as  fresh  as  the  morning,  was,  I  felt,  the  ar- 
tistic sensation  awaiting  me.  I  swung  round  the  last  hill- 
shoulder  ;  saw  the  quaint  gables  of  the  first  house  peeping 

484 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 

through  the  trees,  and  the  church  spire  rising  beyond, 
then  groups  of  Tyrolese  converging  from  all  the  roads ; 
dipped  down  the  valley,  past  the  quiet  lake,  up  the  hills 
beyond  ;  found  myself  caught  in  a  stream  of  peasants,  and, 
presto  !  was  sucked  from  the  radiant  day  into  the  deep 
gloom  of  the  barn-like  theatre. 

"I  don't  know  how  it  is  done  in  Ober-Ammergau,  but 
tliis  Tyrolese  thing  was  a  strange  jumble  of  art  and  naivete, 
of  talent  and  stupidity.  There  was  a  full-fledged  stage  and 
footlights,  and  the  scenery,  some  one  said,  was  painted  by 
a  man  from  Munich.  But  the  players  were  badly  made 
up:  the  costumes,  if  correct,  Avere  ill-fitting;  the  stage 
was  badly  lighted,  and  the  flats  didn't  *'jine.'  Some  of 
the  actors  had  gleams  of  artistic  perception.  St.  Mark  was 
beautiful  to  look  on,  Caiaphas  had  a  sense  of  elocution,  the 
Virgin  was  tender  aiid  sweet,  and  Judas  rose  powerfully 
to  his  great  twenty  minutes'  soliloquy.  But  the  bulk  of 
the  players,  though  all  were  earnest  and  fervent,  were 
clumsy  or  self-conscious.  The  crowds  were  stiff  and  awk- 
ward, painfully  symmetrical,  like  school  children  at  drill. 
A  chorus  of  ten  or  twelve  ushered  in  each  episode  with 
song,  and  a  man  further  explained  it  in  bald  narrative. 
The  acts  of  the  play  proper  were  interrupted  by  tableaux 
vivants  of  Old  Testament  scenes,  from  Adam  and  Eve  on- 
wards. There  was  much,  you  see,  that  was  puerile,  even 
ridiculous  ;  and  every  now  and  then  some  one  would  open 
tiie  door  of  the  dusky  auditorium,  and  a  shaft  of  sunshine 
would  fly  in  from  the  outside  world  to  remind  me  further 
how  unreal  was  all  this  gloomy  make-believe.  Nay,  dur- 
ing the  entr'acte  I  went  out,  like  everybody  else,  and 
lunched  off  sausages  and  beer. 

"And  yet,  beneath  all  this  critical  consciousness,  be- 
neath even  the  artistic  consciousness  that  could  not  resist 
jotting  down  a  face  or  a  scene  in  my  sketch-book,  some- 

485 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 


thing  curious  was  happening  in  the  depths  of  my  being. 
The  play  exercised  from  the  very  first  a  strange  magnetic 
effect  on  me  ;  despite  all  the  j^rimitive  humors  of  the  play- 
ers, the  simple,  sublime  tragedy  that  disengaged  itself 
from  their  uncouth  but  earnest  goings-on,  began  to  move 
uiid  even  oppress  my  soul.  Christ  had  been  to  me  merely 
a  theme  for  artists  ;  my  studies  and  travels  had  familiar- 
ized me  with  every  possible  conception  of  the  Man  of  Sor- 
rows. I  had  seen  myriads  of  Madonnas  nursing  Him, 
miles  of  Magdalens  bewailing  Him.  Yet  the  sorrows  I 
had  never  felt.  Perhaps  it  was  my  Jewish  training,  per- 
haps it  was  that  none  of  the  Christians  I  lived  with  had 
ever  believed  in  Him.  At  any  rate,  here  for  the  first  time 
the  Christ  story  came  home  to  me  as  a  real,  living  fact — 
something  that  had  actually  happened.  I  saw  this  simple 
son  of  the  people — made  more  simple  by  my  knowledge 
that  His  representative  vv^as  a  baker — moving  amid  the  an- 
cient peasant  and  fisher  life  of  Galilee  ;  I  saw  Him  draw 
men  and  women,  saints  and  shiners,  by  the  magic  of  His 
love,  the  simple  sweetness  of  His  inner  sunshine  ;  I  saw 
the  sunshine  change  to  lightning  as  He  drove  the  money- 
changers from  the  Temple ;  I  watched  the  clouds  deepen 
as  the  tragedy  drew  on  ;  I  saw  Him  bid  farewell  to  His 
mother ;  I  heard  suppressed  sobs  all  around  me.  Theal 
the  heavens  were  overcast,  and  it  seemed  as  if  earth  lield| 
its  breath  waiting  for  the  supreme  moment.  The] 
dragged  Him  before  Pilate  ;  they  clothed  Him  in  scarlet 
robe,  and  plaited  His  crown  of  thorns,  and  spat  on  Him 
they  gave  Him  vinegar  to  drink  mixed  with  gall ;  and  He 
so  divinely  sweet  and  forgiving  through  all.  A  horrible 
oppression  hung  over  the  world.  I  felt  clicking ;  mj 
ribs  pressed  inwards,  my  heart  seemed  contracted.  He! 
was  dying  for  the  sins  of  the  world,  He  summed  up  thai 
whole  world's  woe  and  i)itiCuliies3 — the  two  ideas  throbbed] 

4«G 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 

and  fused  in  my  troubled  soul.  And  I,  a  Jew,  had  hith- 
erto ignored  llim.  AVhat  would  they  sa}',  these  simple 
peasants  sobbing  all  around,  if  they  knew  that  I  was  of 
that  hated  race  ?  Then  something  broke  in  me,  and  I 
sobbed  too  —  sobbed  Avith  bitter  tears  that  soon  turned 
sweet  in  strange  relief  and  glad  sympathy  with  my  rough 
brothers  and  sisters."  He  paused  a  moment,  and  sipped 
silently  at  his  absinthe.  I  did  not  break  the  silence.  I 
was  moved  and  interested,  though  what  all  this  had  to  do 
with  his  glowing,  joyous  picture  I  could  only  dimly  sur- 
mise.    He  went  on — 

"When  it  was  all  over,  and  I  went  out  into  the  open 
air,  I  did  not  see  the  sunlight.  I  carried  the  dusk  of  the 
theatre  with  me,  and  tlic  gloom  of  Golgotha  brooded  over 
the  sunny  afternoon.  I  heard  the  nails  driven  in  ;  I  saw 
the  blood  spurting  from  the  wounds — there  was  realism  in 
the  thing,  I  tell  you.  The  peasants,  accustomed  to  the 
painful  story,  had  quickly  recovered  their  gaiety,  and 
were  pouring  boisterously  down  the  hill-side,  like  a  glad, 
turbulent  mountain  stream,  unloosed  from  the  dead  hand 
of  frost.  But  I  was  still  ice-bound  and  fog-wrapped. 
Outside  the  Gasfhaus  where  I  went  to  dine,  gay  groups 
assembled,  an  organ  played,  some  strolling  Italian  girls 
danced  gracefully,  and  my  artistic  self  was  aware  of  a 
warmth  and  a  rush.  But  the  inmost  Me  was  neck-deep  in 
gloom,  with  which  the  terribly  pounded  steak  they  gave 
me,  fraudulently  overlaid  with  two  showy  fried  eggs, 
seemed  only  in  keeping.  St.  John  came  in,  and  Christ 
and  the  schoolmaster — who  had  conducted  the  choir — and 
the  thick  tenor  and  some  supers,  and  I  congratulated  them 
one  and  all  with  a  gloomy  sense  of  dishonesty.  When,  as 
evening  fell,  I  walked  home  with  St.  John,  I  was  gloomily 
glad  to  find  the  valley  shrouded  in  mist  and  a  starless 
heaven  sagging  over  a  blank  earth.     It  seemed  an  endless 

487 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 


uphill  drag  to  my  lodging,  and  though  my  bedroom  was 
unexpectedly  dainty,  and  a  dear  old  woman — St.  John's 
mother  —  metaphorically  tucked  me  in,  I  slept  ill  that 
night.  Formless  dreams  tortured  me  with  impalpable 
tragedies  and  apprehensions  of  horror.  In  the  morning — 
after  a  cold  sponging — tlie  oppression  lifted  a  little  from 
my  spirit,  though  the  weather  still  seemed  rather  gray. 
St.  John  had  already  gone  off  to  his  field-work,  his  mother 
told  me.  She  was  so  lovely,  and  the  room  in  which  I  ate 
breakfast  so  neat  and  demure  with  its  whitewashed  walls 
— pure  and  stainless  like  country  snow — that  I  managed  to 
swallow  everything  but  the  coffee.  0  tliat  coffee  !  I  had 
to  nibble  at  a  bit  of  chocolate  I  carried  to  get  the  taste  of  it 
out  of  my  mouth,  I  tried  hard  not  to  let  the  blues  get  the 
upper  hand  again.  I  filled  my  pipe  and  pulled  out  my 
sketch-book.  My  notes  of  yesterday  seemed  so  faint,  and 
the  morning  to  be  growing  so  dark,  that  I  could  scarcely  see 
them,  I  thought  I  would  go  and  sit  on  tlie  little  bench 
outside.  As  I  was  sauntering  through  the  doorway,  my 
head  bending  broodingly  over  the  sketch-book,  I  caught 
sight  out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye  of  a  little  white  match- 
stand  fixed  up  on  the  wall.  Mechanically  I  put  out  my 
left  hand  to  take  a  light  for  my  pipe.  A  queer,  cold  wet- 
ness in  my  fingers  and  a  little  splash  woke  me  to  the  sense 
of  some  odd  mistake,  and  in  another  instant  I  realized  Avitli 
horror  that  I  had  dipped  my  fingers  into  holy  water  and 
splashed  it  over  tliat  neac,  demure,  spotless,  whitewashed 
wall," 

I  could  not  help  smiling,  ''"Ah,  I  know;  one  of  those 
porcelain  things  with  a  crucified  Saviour  over  a  little  font, 
Eancy  taking  heaven  for  brimstone  I" 

''It  didn't  seem  the  least  bit  funny  at  the  time,  I  just 
felt  awful,  AVhat  Avould  the  dear  old  woman  say  to  this 
profanation  ?     AVhy  the  dickens  did  people  have  white- 

488 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 

washed  walls  on  which  sacrilegious  stains  were  luridly  visi- 
ble ?  I  looked  u])  and  down  the  hall  like  Moses  when  he 
slew  that  Egyptian,  trembling  lest  the  old  woman  should 
come  in.  How  could  I  make  her  understand  I  was  so  ig- 
norant of  Christian  custom  as  to  mistake  a  font  for  a 
matchbox  ?  And  if  I  said  I  was  a  Jew,  good  heavens  ! 
she  might  think  I  had  done  it  of  fell  design.  What  a 
wound  to  the  gentle  old  creature  who  had  been  so  sweet  to 
me  !  I  could  not  stay  in  sight  of  that  accusing  streak,  I 
must  walk  off  my  uneasiness.  I  threw  open  the  outer  door  ; 
then  I  stood  still,  paralyzed.  Monstrous  evil-looking  gray 
mists  were  clumped  at  the  very  threshold.  Sinister  form- 
less vapors  blotted  out  the  mountain  ;  everywhere  vague, 
drifting  hulks  of  malarious  mist.  I  sought  to  j)ierce  them, 
to  find  the  landscape,  the  cheerful  village,  the  warm  human 
life  nesting  under  God's  heaven,  but  saw  only — way  below 
— as  through  a  tunnel  cut  betwixt  mist  and  mountain,  a 
dead,  inverted  world  of  houses  and  trees  in  a  chill,  gray 
lake.  I  shuddered.  An  indefinable  apprehension  pos- 
sessed me,  something  like  the  vague  discomfort  of  my 
dreams ;  then,  almost  instantly,  it  crystallized  into  the 
blood  -  curdling  suggestion  :  What  if  this  were  divine 
chastisement  ?  what  if  all  the  outer  and  inner  dreariness 
that  had  so  steadily  enveloped  me  since  I  had  witnessed  the 
tragedy  were  punishment  for  my  disbelief  ?  what  if  this 
water  were  really  holy,  and  my  sacrilege  had  brought  some 
grisly  Nemesis  ?" 

"  You  believed  that  ?" 

"Not  really,  of  course.  But  you,  as  an  artist,  must 
understand  how  one  dallies  with  an  idea,  plays  with  a 
mood,  Avorks  oneself  up  imaginatively  into  a  dramatic 
situation.  I  let  it  grow  upon  me  till,  like  a  man  alone  in 
the  dark,  afraid  of  the  ghosts  he  doesn't  believe  in,  I  grew 
horribly  nervous." 

489 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

*'I  daresay  you  hadn't  wholly  recovered  from  your  fall, 
and  your  nerves  were  unstrung  by  the  blood  and  the  nails, 
and  that  steak  had  disagreed  with  you,  and  you  had  had  a 
bad  night,  and  you  were  morbidly  uneasy  about  annoying 
the  old  woman,  and  all  those  chunks  of  mist  got  into  your 
spirits.     You  are  a  child  of  the  sun  !" 

"  Of  course  I  knew  all  that,  down  in  the  cellars  of  my 
being,  but  upstairs,  all  the  same,  I  had  this  sense  of  guilt 
and  expiation,  this  anxious  doubt  that  perhaps  all  that 
great,  gloomy,  medi^Bval  business  of  saints  and  nuns,  and 
bones,  and  relics,  and  miracles,  and  icons,  and  calvaries, 
and  cells,  and  celibacy,  and  horsehair  shirts,  and  blood, 
and  dirt,  and  tears,  was  true  after  all  !  What  if  the  world 
of  beauty  I  had  been  content  to  live  in  was  a  Satanic  show, 
and  the  real  thing  was  that  dead,  topsy-turvy  world  down 
there  in  the  cold,  gray  lake  under  the  reeking  mists  ?  I 
sneaked  back  into  the  Jiouse  to  see  if  the  streak  hadn't 
dried  yet ;  but  no  !  it  loomed  in  tell-tale  ghastliness,  a  sort 
of  writing  on  the  wall  announcing  the  wrath  and  visitation 
of  heaven.  I  went  outside  again  and  smoked  miserably  on 
the  little  bench.  Gradually  I  began  to  feel  warmer,  the 
mists  seemed  clearing.  I  rose  and  stretched  myself  with 
an  ache  of  luxurious  languor.  Encouraged,  I  stole  within 
again  to  peep  at  the  streak.  It  was  dry — a  virgin  wall, 
innocently  white,  met  my  delighted  gaze.  I  oiDcned  the 
window  ;  the  draggling  vapors  were  still  rising,  rising,  the 
bleakness  was  merging  in  a  mild  warmth.  I  refilled  my 
pipe,  and  plunged  down  the  yet  gray  hill.  I  strode  past 
the  old  saw-mill,  skirted  the  swampy  border  of  the  lake, 
came  out  on  the  firm  green,  when  bing  !  zim !  br-r-r  !  a 
heavenly  bolt  of  sunshine  smashed  through  the  raw  mists, 
scattering  them  like  a  bomb  to  the  horizon's  rim  ;  then 
with  sovereign  calm  the  sun  came  out  full,  flooding  hill 
and   dale  with   luminous   joy  ;  the   lake   shimmered   and 

4'JO 


THE    JOYOUS    COMRADE 

lashed  into  radiant  life,  and  gave  back  a  great  Avhite 
iloud-island  on  a  stretch  of  glorious  blue,  and  all  that 
golden  warmth  stole  into  my  veins  like  wine.  A  little 
yoat  came  skipping  along  with  tinkling  bell,  a  horse  at 
^•rass  threw  up  its  heels  in  ecstasy,  an  ox  lowed,  a  dog 
marked.  Tears  of  exquisite  emotion  came  into  my  eyes  ; 
;he  beautiful  soft  warm  light  that  lay  over  all  the  happy 
valley  seemed  to  get  into  them  and  melt  something.  How 
mlike  those  teai's  of  yesterday,  wrung  out  of  me  as  by 
>ome  serpent  coiled  round  my  ribs  !  Now  my  ribs  seemed 
expanding — to  hold  my  heart — and  all  the  divine  joy  of 
existence  thrilled  me  to  a  religious  rapture.  And  with 
:he  lifting  of  the  mists  all  that  ghastly  medigeval  night- 
nare  Avas  lifted  from  my  soul ;  in  that  sacred  moment  all 
die  lurid  tragedy  of  the  crucified  Clirist  vanished,  and 
inly  Christ  was  left,  the  simple  fellowship  Avith  man  and 
aeast  and  nature,  the  love  of  life,  the  love  of  love,  the 
ove  of  God.  And  in  that  yearning  ecstasy  my  picture 
3ame  to  me — Tiie  Joyous  Comrade.  Christ — not  the  tort- 
ured God,  but  the  joyous  comrade,  the  friend  of  all  simple 
souls  ;  the  joyous  comrade,  with  the  children  clinging  to 
;iim,  and  peasants  and  fishers  listening  to  his  chat;  not 
i;he  theologian  spinning  barren  subtleties,  but  the  man  of 
genius  protesting  against  all  forms  and  dogmas  that  would 
replace  the  direct  vision  and  the  living  ecstasy  ;  not  the 
man  of  sorrows  loving  the  blankness  of  underground  cells 
md  scourged  backs  and  sexless  skeletons,  but  the  lover  of 
ivarm  life,  and  warm  sunlight,  and  all  tiiat  is  fresh  and 
simple  and  pure  and  beautiful." 

"  Every  man  makes  his  God  in  his  own  image,"  I  thought, 
too  touched  to  jar  him  by  saying  it  aloud. 

"And  so — ever  since — off  and  on — I  have  worked  at  this 
liuman  picture  of  him — The  Joyous  Comrade — to  restore 
the  true  Christ  to  the  world." 

•191 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 


"  "Which  you  hope  to  convert  ?"' 

"My  business  is  with  work,  not  with  results.  'What- 
soever thy  hand  lindeth  to  do,  do  with  all  thy  might/ 
What  can  any  single  liand,  even  the  mightiest,  do  in  this 
great  weltering  world  ?  Yet,  without  the  hope  and  the 
dream,  who  would  work  at  all  ?  And  so,  not  without 
hope,  yet  with  no  expectation  of  a  miracle,  I  give  the  Jews 
a  Christ  they  can  now  accept,  the  Christians  a  Christ  they 
have  forgotten.  I  rebuild  for  my  beloved  America  a  type 
of  simple  manhood,  unfretted  by  the  feverish  lust  for 
wealth  or  power,  a  simple  lover  of  the  quiet  moment,  a 
sweet  human  soul  never  dispossessed  of  itself,  always  at 
one  with  the  essence  of  existence.  AVho  knows  but  I  may 
suggest  the  great  question  :  AVhat  shall  it  profit  a  nation 
to  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  its  own  soul  ?" 

His  voice  died  away  solemnly,  and  I  heard  only  the  click 
of  the  billiard-balls  and  the  rumble  and  roar  of  New  York. 


CHAD   GADYA 


"And  it  shall  be  whea  thy  son  asketh  thee  in  time  to  come,  saying: 
What  is  this  ?  that  thou  shalt  say  unto  him,  By  strength  of  hand  the 
Lord  brought  us  out  from  Egypt,  from  the  house  of  bondage.  And 
.  .  .  the  Lord  slew  all  the  first-born  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  .  .  .  but  all 
the  first-born  of  my  children  I  redeem." — Exodus  xiii.  14,  15. 

Cltad  Gadija  I     Chad  Gadya  !     One  only  kid  of  the  yoaf. 

At  last  the  Passover  family  service  was  drawing  to  an 
end.  His  father  had  started  on  the  curious  Chaldaic  reci- 
tative that  wound  it  up  : 

One  only  kid,  one  only  kid,  which  my  father  bought  for 
two  zuzini.     Chad  Cadya  !    Cltad  Gadya  ! 

The  young  man  smiled  faintly  at  the  quaintness  of  an 
old  gentleman  in  a  frock-coat,  a  director  of  the  steamboat 
company  in  modern  Venice,  talking  Chaldaic,  wholly  nn- 
conscious  of  the  incongruity,  rolling  out  the  sonorous  syl- 
lables Avith  unction,  propped  up  on  the  prescribed  pillows. 

And  a  cat  came  and  devoured  the  kid  which  my  father 
bought  for  two  zuzim.     Chad  Gadya!     CJiad  Gadya! 

He  Avondered  vaguely  what  his  father  would  say  to  him 
when  the  service  was  over.  He  had  only  come  in  during 
the  second  part,  arriving  from  Vienna  with  his  usual  un- 
questioned unexpectedness,  and  was  quite  startled  to  find 
it  was  Passover  night,  and  that  the  immemorial  service 
was  going  on  just  as  when  he  was  a  boy.    The  rarity  of  his 

493 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

visits  to  the  old  folks  made  it  a  strange  coincidence  to  have 
stumbled  upon  them  at  this  juncture,  and,  as  lie  took  his 
seat  silently  in  the  family  circle  without  interrupting  the 
prayers  by  greetings,  he  had  a  vivid  artistic  perception  of 
the  possibilities  of  existence — the  witty  French  novel  that 
had  so  amused  him  in  the  train,  making  him  feel  that,  in 
providing  raw  matter  for  esprit,  human  life  had  its  joyousi 
justification  ;  the  red-gold  sunset  over  the  mountains  ;  thej 
floating  homewards  down  the  Grand  Canal  in  the  moonlight, 
the  well-known  palaces  as  dreamful  and  mysterious  to  him 
as  if  he  had  not  been  born  in  the  city  of  the  sea ;  the  gay 
reminiscences  of  Goldmark's  new  opera  last  night  at  the 
Operntheater  that  had  haunted  his  ear  as  he  ascended  the 
great  staircase  ;  and  then  this  abrupt  transition  to  the 
East,  and  the  dead  centuries,  and  Jehovah  bringing  out 
His  chosen  people  from  Egypt,  and  bidding  them  celebrate 
with  unleavened  bread  throughout  the  generations  their 
hurried  journey  to  the  desert. 

Probably  his  father  Avas  distressed  at  this  glaring  in- 
stance of  his  son's  indifference  to  the  traditions  he  himself 
held  so  dear  ;  though  indeed  the  old  man  had  realized  long 
ago  the  bitter  truth  that  his  ways  were  not  his  son's  ways,J 
nor  his  son's  thoughts  his  thoughts.  He  had  long  since 
known  that  his  first-born  was  a  sinner  in  Israel,  an  "  Epi- 
kouros,"  a  scoffer,  a  selfish  sensualist,  a  lover  of  bachelor^ 
quarters  and  the  feverish  life  of  the  European  capitals,  a 
scorner  of  the  dietary  laws  and  tabus,  an  adept  in  the  for- 
bidden. The  son  thought  of  himself  through  his  father's 
spectacles,  and  the  faint  smile  playing  about  the  sensitive 
lips  became  bitterer.  His  long  white  fingers  worked  ner- 
vously. 

And  yet  he  thought  kindly  enough  of  his  father  ;  ad- 
mired the  perseverance  that  had  brought  him  wealth,  the 
generosity  with  which  he   expended  it,  the  fidelity  that 

494 


CHAD    GADYA 

■esisted  its  temptations  and  made  this  Seder  service,  this 
amily  reunion,  as  homely  and  as  piously  simi^le  as  in  the 
)ast  when  the  Ghetto  Vecchio,  and  not  this  palace  on  the 
jrrand  Canal,  had  meant  home.  The  beaker  of  wine  for 
he  prophet  Elijah  stood  as  naively  expectant  as  ever.  His 
nother's  face,  too,  shone  with  love  and  goodwill.  Brothers 
md  sisters — shafts  from  a  full  quiver — sat  around  the  table 
variously  happy  and  content  Avitli  existence.  An  atmos- 
jhere  of  peace  and  restf ulness  and  faith  and  piety  pervaded 
;he  table. 

And  a  dog  came  and  hit  tlie  cat  which  had  devoured  the  hid 
uhich  my  father  boiight  for  two  zuzim.  Chad  Gadijal  Chad 
'Jadya  ! 

And  suddenly  the  contrast  of  all  these  quietudes  with 
lis  own  restless  life  overwhelmed  him  in  a  great  flood  of 
lojielessness.  His  eyes  filled  with  salt  tears.  He  would 
lever  sit  at  the  head  of  his  own  table,  carrying  on  the 
3hain  of  piety  that  linked  the  generations  each  to  each; 
lever  would  his  soul  be  lapped  in  this  atmosphere  of  faith 
md  trust ;  no  woman's  love  would  ever  be  his  ;  no  children 
ivould  rest  their  little  hands  in  his  ;  he  would  pass  through 
existence  like  a  wraith,  gazing  in  at  the  warm  firesides 
ivith  hopeless  eyes,  and  sweeping  on  —  the  wandering  Jew 
Df  the  world  of  soul.  How  he  had  suffered — he,  modern  of 
moderns,  dreamer  of  dreams,  and  ponderer  of  problems  ' 
Vanitas  Vanitatnm!  Omnia  Vanitas !  Modern  of  the 
moderns  ?  But  it  was  an  ancient  Jew  who  had  said  that, 
ind  another  who  had  said  "Better  is  the  day  of  a  man's 
:leath  than  the  day  of  a  man's  birth."  Verily  an  ironical 
proof  of  the  Preacher's  own  maxim  that  there  is  nothing 
new  under  the  sun.     And  he  recalled  the  great  sentences  : 


"Vanity  of  vanilies,  saitli  the  Preacher,  vanity  of  vanities;  all  is 
vanity. 

495 


DREAMEKS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

"One  generation  passetli  away  and  aiiotlier  generation  cometb  :  but 
tlie  earth  abideth  for  ever. 

"  All  the  rivers  run  into  the  sea  ;  yet  the  sea  is  not  full ;  unto  the 
place  from  whence  the  rivers  come,  tliilher  they  return  again. 

"  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  which  shall  be  ;  and  that  which 
is  done  is  that  which  shall  be  done  :  and  there  is  no  new  thing  under 
the  sun. 

"That  which  is  crooked  cannot  be  made  straight  ;  and  that  which 
is  wanting  cannot  be  numbered. 

"For  in  much  wisdom  is  much  grief  ;  and  he  that  iucreaseth  knowl- 
edge increaseth  sorrow." 

Yes,  it  was  all  true,  all  true.  How  the  Jewish  genius 
had  gone  to  the  heart  of  things,  so  that  the  races  that 
hated  it  found  comfort  in  its  Psalms.  No  sense  of  form, 
the  end  of  Ecclesiastes  a  confusion  and  a  weak  repetition 
like  the  last  disordered  spasms  of  a  prophetic  seizure.  No 
care  for  art,  only  for  reality.  And  yet  he  had  once  thought 
he  loved  the  Greeks  better,  had  from  childhood  yearned 
after  forbidden  gods,  thrilled  by  that  solitary  marble  figure 
of  a  girl  that  looked  in  on  the  Ghetto  alley  from  a  boun- 
dary wall.  Yes  ;  he  had  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of  the 
Beautiful ;  he  had  prated  of  the  Renaissance.  He  had 
written  —  with  the  multiform  adaptiveness  of  his  race  — 
French  poems  Avith  Hellenic  inspiration,  and  erotic  lyrics 
— half  felt,  half  feigned,  delicately  chiselled.  He  saw  now 
with  a  sudden  intuition  that  he  had  never  really  expressed 
himself  in  art,  save  perhaps  in  that  one  brutal  Italian  novel 
written  under  the  influence  of  Zola,  which  had  been  so  de- 
noiinced  by  a  world  with  no  perception  of  the  love  and  the 
tears  that  prompted  the  relentless  unmasking  of  life. 

And  a  staff  came  and  smote  the  dog  ichich  had  bitten  the 
cat,  which  had  devoured  the  kid,  which  mj/ father  houfjht  for 
tioo  zuzim.     Chad  Gadjja  !     Chad  Gadya  ! 

Yes,  he  was  a  Jew  at  heart.  The  childhood  in  the 
Ghetto,  the  long  heredity,  had  bound  him  in  emotions  and 

496 


CHAD    GADYA 

impulses  as  witli  phylacteries.  Chad  Gadya  !  Chad  Gadya  ! 
The  very  melody  awakened  associations  innumerable.  lie 
saw  in  a  swift  panorama  the  intense  inner  life  of  a  curly- 
headed  child  roaming  in  the  narrow  cincture  of  the  Ghetto, 
amid  the  picturesque  high  houses.  A  reflex  of  the  child's 
old  joy  in  the  Festivals  glowed  in  his  soul.  How  charming 
this  quaint  sequence  of  Passover  and  Pentecost,  New  Year 
and  Tabernacles  ;  this  survival  of  the  ancient  Orient  in 
modern  Europe,  this  living  in  the  souls  of  one's  ancestors, 
even  as  on  Tabernacles  one  lived  in  their  booths.  A  sud- 
den craving  seized  him  to  sing  with  his  father,  to  wrap 
himself  in  a  fringed  shawl,  to  sway  with  the  rhythmic 
passion  of  prayer,  to  prostrate  himself  in  the  synagogue. 
AVhy  had  his  brethren  ever  sought  to  emerge  from  the  joy- 
ous slavery  of  the  Ghetto  ?  His  imagination  conjured  it 
up  as  it  was  ere  he  was  born :  the  one  campo,  bordered 
with  a  colonnade  of  shops,  the  black-bearded  Hebrew  mer- 
chants in  their  long  robes,  the  iron  gates  barred  at  mid- 
night, the  keepers  rowing  round  and  round  the  open 
canal-sides  in  their  barca.  The  yellow  cap  ?  The  yellow 
0  on  their  breasts  ?  Badges  of  honor ;  since  to  be  perse- 
cuted is  nobler  than  to  persecute.  Why  had  they  wished 
for  emancipation  ?  Their  life  was  self-centred,  self-com- 
plete. But  no ;  they  were  restless,  doomed  to  wander. 
He  saw  the  earliest  streams  pouring  into  Venice  at  the 
commencement  of  the  thirteenth  centur}',  German  mer- 
chants, then  Levantines,  helping  to  build  up  the  commer- 
cial capital  of  the  fifteenth  century.  He  saw  the  later 
accession  of  Peninsular  refugees  from  the  Inquisition, 
their  shelter  beneath  the  lion's  wing  negotiated  through  ' 
their  fellow-Jew,  Daniel  Rodrigues,  Consul  of  the  Repub- 
lic in  Dalmatia.  His  mind  halted  a  moment  on  this  Daniel 
Rodrigues,  an  important  skeleton.  He  thought  of  the 
endless  shifts  of  the  Jews  to  evade  the  harsher  prescrip- 
3 1  497 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

tions,  their  subtle,  passive  refusal  to  live  at  Mestre,  their 
final  relegation  to  the  Ghetto.  What  well  -  springs  of 
energy,  seething  in  those  paradoxical  progenitors  of  his, 
who  united  the  calm  of  the  East  witli  tlie  fever  of  tlie 
West ;  those  idealists  dealing  always  Avitli  the  practical, 
those  lovers  of  ideas,  those  princes  of  combination,  master- 
ing their  environment  because  tliey  never  dealt  in  ideas 
except  as  embodied  in  real  concrete  things.  Keality ! 
Reality  ! 

That  was  the  note  of  Jewish  genius,  which  had  this  af- 
finity at  least  with  the  Greek.  And  he,  though  to  him  his 
father's  real  world  was  a  shadow,  had  yet  this  instinctive 
hatred  of  the  cloud-spinners,  the  word-jugglers,  his  ideal- 
isms needed  solid  substance  to  play  around.  Perhaps  if 
he  had  been  persecuted,  or  even  poor,  if  his  father  had  not 
smoothed  his  passage  to  a  not  unprosperous  career  in  let- 
ters, he  might  have  escaped  this  haunting  sense  of  the 
emptiness  and  futility  of  existence.  He,  too,  would  .have 
found  a  joy  in  outwitting  the  Christian  persecutor,  in 
piling  ducat  on  ducat.  Ay,  even  now  he  chuckled  to 
think  how  these  strazzaroli — these  forced  vendors  of  sec- 
ond-hand wares — had  lived  to  purchase  the  faded  purple 
wrappings  of  Venetian  glory. 

He  remembered  reading  in  the  results  of  an  ancient 
census  :  Men,  women,  children,  monks,  nuns  —  and  Jews! 
Well,  the  Doges  were  done  with,  Venice  was  a  melancholy 
ruin,  and  the  Jew — the  Jew  lived  sumptuously  in  the  pal- 
aces of  her  proud  nobles.  He  looked  round  the  magnificent 
long-stretching  dining-room,  with  its  rugs,  oil-paintings, 
frescoed  ceiling,  palms  ;  remembered  the  ancient  scutcheon 
over  the  stone  portal — a  lion  rampant  with  an  angel  volant 
— and  thought  of  the  old  Latin  statute  forbidding  the  Jews 
to  keep  schools  of  any  kind  in  Venice,  or  to  teacli  anything 
in  the   city,  uiuler  penalty  of  fifty  ducats'  fine  and   six 

498 


CHAD    GADYA 

months'  imprisonment.  Well,  the  Jews  had  taught  the 
Venetians  something  after  all  —  that  the  only  abiding 
wealth  is  human  energy.  All  other  nations  had  had  their 
flowering  time  and  had  faded  out.  But  Israel  went  on 
with  unabated  strength  and  courage.  It  was  very  wonder- 
ful. Nay,  was  it  not  miraculous  ?  Perhaps  there  was,  in- 
deed, "a,  mission  of  Israel,"  perhaps  they  were  indeed 
God's  "chosen  people."  The  Venetians  had  built  and 
painted  marvellous  things  and  died  out  and  left  them  for 
tourists  to  gaze  at.  The  Jews  had  created  nothing  for 
ages,  save  a  few  poems  and  a  few  yearning  synagogue 
melodies  ;  yet  here  they  were,  strong  and  solid,  a  creation 
in  flesh  and  blood  more  miraculous  and  enduring  than  any- 
thing in  stone  and  bronze.  And  what  was  the  secret  of 
this  persistence  and  strength  ?  What  but  a  spiritual  ? 
What  but  their  inner  certainty  of  God,  their  unquestion- 
ing trust  in  Him,  that  He  would  send  His  Messiah  to  re- 
build the  Temple,  to  raise  them  to  the  sovereignty  of  the 
peoples  ?  How  typical  his  own  father — thus  serenely  sing 
ing  Chaldaic — a  modern  of  moderns  without,  a  student  and 
saint  at  home  !  Ah,  would  that  he,  too,  could  lay  hold  on 
this  solid  faith  !  Yes,  his  soul  was  in  sympathy  with  the 
brooding  immovable  East ;  even  with  the  mysticisms  of  the 
Cabalists,  with  the  trance  of  the  ascetic,  nay,  with  the  fan- 
tastic frenzy-begotten  ecstasy  of  the  Dervishes  he  had  seen 
dancing  in  Turkish  mosques, — that  intoxicating  sense  of  a 
satisfying  meaning  in  things,  of  a  unity  with  the  essence  of 
existence,  which  men  had  doubtless  sought  in  the  ancient 
Eleusinian  mysteries,  which  the  Mahatnias  of  India  had 
perhaps  found,  the  tradition  of  which  ran  down  through 
the  ages,  misconceived  by  the  Western  races,  and  for  lack 
of  which  he  could  often  have  battered  his  head  against  a 
wall,  as  in  literal  beating  against  the  baffling  mystery  of 
existence.     Ah  !  there  was  the  hell  of  it  I     His  soul  was  of 

499 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

the  Orient,  but  his  brain  was  of  the  Occident.  His  intel- 
lect had  been  nourished  at  the  breast  of  Science,  that 
classified  everything  and  explained  nothing.  But  explana- 
tion !  The  very  word  was  futile  !  Things  were.  To  ex- 
plain things  Avas  to  state  A  in  terms  of  13,  and  B  in  terms 
of  A.  Who  sliould  explain  the  explanation  ?  Perhaps  only 
by  ecstasy  could  one  understand  what  lay  behind  the  phe- 
nomena. But  even  so  the  essence  had  to  be  judged  by  its 
manifestations,  and  the  manifestations  were  often  absurd, 
unrighteous,  and  meaningless.  No,  he  could  not  believe. 
His  intellect  was  remorseless.  What  if  Israel  was  pre- 
served ?    Why  should  the  empire  of  Venice  be  destroyed  ? 

And  afire  came  and  burnt  the  staff,  which  had  smitten  the 
dog,  ivliich  had  bitten  the  cat,  which  had  devoured  the  kid, 
lohich  my  father  bought  for  two  zuzim.  Chad  Gadya!  Chad 
Gadya ! 

He  thought  of  the  energy  that  had  gone  to  build  this 
wonderful  city ;  the  deep  sea-soaked  wooden  piles  hidden 
beneath  ;  the  exhaustless  art  treasures — churches,  pictures, 
sculptures — no  less  built  on  obscure  human  labor,  though 
a  few  of  the  innumerable  dead  hands  had  signed  names. 
AVhat  measureless  energy  petrified  in  these  palaces  !  Car- 
paccio's  pictures  floated  before  him,  and  Tintoretto's — rec- 
ord of  dead  generations  ;  and  then,  by  the  link  of  size, 
those  even  vaster  paintings — in  gouache — of  Vermayen  in 
Vienna  :  old  land-fights  with  crossbow,  spear,  and  arque- 
bus, old  sea-fights  with  inter-grappling  galleys.  He  thought 
of  galley-slaves  chained  to  their  oar — the  sweat,  the  blood 
that  had  stained  history.  "So  I  returned  and  considered 
all  the  oppressions  that  are  done  under  the  sun  :  and  be- 
hold the  tears  of  such  as  were  oppressed,  and  they  had  no 
comforter."  And  then  lie  thought  of  a  modern  picture 
with  a  beautiful  nude  female  figure  that  had  cost  the  hap- 
piness of  a  family  ;  the  artist  now  dead  and  immortal,  the 

500 


CHAD    GADYA 

woman,  once  rich  and  fashionable,  on  the  streets.  The 
futility  of  things — love,  fame,  immortality  !  All  roads  lead 
nowhere  I  What  profit  shall  a  man  have  from  all  his  labor 
which  he  hath  done  under  the  sun  ? 

No ;  it  was  all  a  flux — there  was  nothing  but  flux.  IlaiTa 
pti.  The  wisest  had  always  seen  that.  The  cat  v/hicli  de- 
voured the  hid,  and  the  dog  which  bit  the  cat,  and  the  staff 
which  smote  the  dog,  and  the  fire  which  burnt  the  staff, 
and  so  on  endlessly.  Did  not  the  commentators  say  that 
that  was  the  meaning  of  this  very  parable — the  passing  of 
the  ancient  empires,  Egypt,  Assyria,  Persia,  Greece,  Eome? 
Commentators  !  what  curious  people  !  What  a  making  of 
books  to  which  there  was  no  end  !  What  a  wilderness  of 
waste  logic  the  Jewish  intellect  had  wandered  in  for  ages  ! 
The  endless  volumes  of  the  Talmud  and  its  parasites  !  The 
countless  codes,  now  obsolescent,  over  which  dead  eyes  had 
grown  dim  !  As  great  a  patience  and  industry  as  had  gone 
to  build  Venetian  art,  and  with  less  result.  The  chosen 
people,  indeed  !  And  were  they  so  strong  and  sane  ?  A 
fine  thought  in  his  brain,  forsooth  ! 

He,  worn  out  by  the  great  stress  of  the  centuries,  such 
long  in-breeding,  so  many  ages  of  persecution,  so  many 
manners  and  languages  adopted,  so  many  nationalities  taken 
on  !  His  soul  must  be  like  a  palimpsest  with  the  record  of 
nation  on  nation.  It  was  uncanny,  this  clinging  to  life  ;  a 
race  should  be  content  to  die  out.  And  in  him  it  had  per- 
haps grown  thus  content.  He  foreshadowed  its  despair. 
He  stood  for  latter-day  Israel,  the  race  that  always  ran  to 
extremes,  which,  having  been  first  in  faith,  was  also  first 
in  scepticism,  keenest  to  pierce  to  the  empty  heart  of 
things;  like  an  orjihan  wind,  homeless.  Availing  about  the 
lost  places  of  the  universe.  To  know  all  to  be  illusion, 
cheat — itself  the  most  cheated  of  races ;  lured  on  to  a  ca- 
reer of  sacrifice  and  contempt.     If  ho  could  only  keep  the 

501 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

hope  that  had  liallowed  its  sufferings.  But  now  it  was  a 
viper — not  a  divine  hope — it  had  nourished  in  its  bosom. 
He  felt  so  lonely ;  a  great  stretch  of  blackness,  a  barren 
mere,  a  gaunt  cliff  on  a  frozen  sea,  a  pine  on  a  mountain. 
To  be  done  Avith  it  all — the  sighs  and  the  sobs  and  the 
tears,  the  heart-sinking,  the  dull  dragging  days  of  wretch- 
edness and  the  nights  of  pain.  How  often  he  had  turned 
his  face  to  the  wall,  willing  to  die. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  dead  city  of  stones  and  the  tea  that 
wrought  so  on  liis  spirit.  Tourgenieff  was  right  ;  only  the 
young  should  come  here,  not  those  who  had  seen  with  Virgil 
the  tears  of  things.  And  then  he  recalled  the  lines  of  Ca- 
tullus— the  sad,  stately  plaint  of  the  classic  world,  like  tlie 
suppressed  sob  of  a  strong  man  : 

"Soles  occideie  ct  rcdire  possunf, 
Nobis  cum  semel  occidit  brevis  lux, 
Nox  est  perpetuo  una  donnienda." 

And  then  he  thought  again  of  Virgil,  and  called  up  a  Tus- 
can landscape  that  expressed  him,  and  lines  of  cypresses 
that  moved  on  majestic  like  hexameters.  He  saw  the  ter- 
race of  an  ancient  palace,  and  the  grotesque  animals  carven 
on  the  balustrade ;  the  green  flicker  of  lizards  on  the  drowsy 
garden-wall;  the  old-world  sun-dial  and  the  grotto  and  the 
marble  fountain,  and  the  cool  green  gloom  of  the  cypress- 
grove  with  its  delicious  dapple  of  shadows.  An  invisible 
blackbird  fluted  overhead.  He  walked  along  the  great  walk 
under  the  stone  eyes  of  sculptured  gods,  and  looked  out 
upon  the  hot  landscape  taking  its  siesta  under  the  ardent 
blue  sky — the  green  sunlit  hills,  the  white  nestling  villas, 
the  gray  olive-trees.  Who  had  paced  these  cloistral  ter- 
races ?  Mediaeval  princesses,  passionate  and  scornful,  tread- 
ing delicately,  with  trailing  silks  and  faint  perfumes.  He 
would   make  a  poem  of  it.     Oh,  the  loveliness    of  life  ! 

502 


CHAD    GADYA 

What  was  it  a  local  singer  had  carolled  in  that  dear  soft 
Venetian  dialect  ? 

"Belissinio  xe  el  mondo 
perche  1'  e  molto  vario. 
ue  omo  glie  xe  profondo 
che  dir  possa  el  contrario." 

Yes,  the  world  was  indeed  most  beautiful  and  most  va- 
ried. Terence  was  right :  the  comedy  and  pathos  of  things 
was  enough.  We  are  a  sufficient  spectacle  to  one  another. 
A  glow  came  over  him  ;  for  a  moment  he  grasjjed  hold  on 
life,  and  the  infinite  tentacles  of  things  threw  themselves 
out  to  entwine  him. 

And  a  water  came  and  extinguifilicd  the  firs,  which  had 
burnt  the  -staff,  wliich  had  smitten  the  dog,  lohicli  had  bitten 
the  cat,  lohicli  had  devoured  the  kid,  which  my  father  bought 
for  two  zuzim.      Chad  Gadga!   Chad  (iadgal 

But  the  glow  faded,  and  he  drew  back  sad  and  hopeless. 
For  he  knew  now  what  he  Avanted.  Paganism  would  not 
suffice.  He  wanted — he  hungered  after — God.  The  God 
of  his  fathers.  The  three  thousand  years  of  belief  could 
not  be  shaken  off.  It  was  atavism  that  gave  him  those 
sudden  strange  intuitions  of  God  at  the  scent  of  a  rose,  the 
sound  of  a  child's  laughter,  the  sight  of  a  sleeping  city  ; 
that  sent  a  warmth  to"  his  heart  and  tears  to  his  eyes,  and 
a  sense  of  the  infinite  beauty  and  sacredness  of  life.  But 
he  could  not  have  the  God  of  his  fathers.  And  his  own 
God  Avas  distant  and  dubious,  and  nothing  that  modern 
science  had  taught  him  was  yet  registered  in  his  organism. 
Could  he  even  transmit  it  to  descendants  ?  What  was  it 
Weismann  said  about  acquired  characteristics  ?  No,  cer- 
tain races  put  forth  certain  beliefs,  and  till  you  killed  off 
the  races,  you  could  never  kill  off  the  beliefs.  Oh,  it  was 
a  cruel  tragedy,  this  Western  culture  grafted  on  an  Eastern 

.-503 


DKEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

stock,  untuning  the  chords  of  life,  setting  heart  and  brain 
asunder.  But  then  Nature  was  cruel.  He  thought  of  last 
year's  grape-harvest  ruined  by  a  thunderstorm,  the  fright- 
ful poverty  of  the  peasants  under  the  thumb  of  the  padrones. 
And  then  the  vision  came  up  of  a  captured  cuttle-fish  he 
had  seen  gasping,  almost  with  a  human  cough,  on  the  sands 
of  the  Lido.  It  had  spoilt  the  sublimity  of  that  barren 
stretch  of  sand  and  sea,  and  the  curious  charm  of  the  white 
sails  that  seemed  to  glide  along  the  very  stones  of  the  great 
breakwater.  His  soul  demanded  justice  for  the  uncouth 
cuttle-fish.  He  did  not  understand  how  people  could  live 
in  a  self-centred  spiritual  world  that  shut  out  the  larger 
part  of  creation.  If  suffering  purified,  what  purification 
did  overdriven  horses  undergo,  or  starved  cats  ?  The  mir- 
acle of  creation — why  was  it  wrought  for  puppies  doomed 
to  drown  ?  No  ;  man  had  imposed  morality  on  a  non-moral 
universe,  anthropomorphizing  everything,  transferring  into 
the  great  remorseless  mechanism  the  ethical  ideals  that 
governed  the  conduct  of  man  to  man.  Keligion,  like  art, 
focussed  the  universe  round  man,  an  unimportant  by-prod- 
uct :  it  was  bad  science  turned  into  good  art.  And  it  was 
his  own  race  that  had  started  the  delusion  !  ''And  Abra- 
ham said  unto  God  :  '  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth 
do  right?'"  Formerly  the  gods  had  meant  might,  but 
man's  soul  had  come  to  crave  for  right.  From  the  welter 
of  human  existence  man  had  abstracted  the  idea  of  good- 
ness and  made  a  god  of  it,  and  then  foolishly  turned  round 
and  asked  why  it  permitted  the  bad  without  which  the  idea 
of  it  could  never  have  been  formed.  And  because  God  was 
goodness,  therefore  He  was  oneness  —  he  remembered  the 
acute  analysis  of  Kuenen.  No,  the  moral  law  was  no  more 
the  central  secret  of  the  universe  than  color  or  music.  Re- 
ligion was  made  for  man,  not  man  for  religion.  Even  jus- 
tice was  a  meaningless  concept  in  the  last  analysis  :  What 

504 


CHAD    GADYA 

was,  was.     The  artist's  view  of  life  Avas  the  only  true  one  : 
the  artist  who  believes  in  everything  and  in  nothing. 

The  religions  unconsciously  distorted  everything.  Life 
itself  was  simple  enough  :  a  biological  phenomenon  that 
had  its  growth,  its  maturity,  its  decay.  Death  Avas  no  mys- 
tery, pain  no  punishment,  nor  sin  anything  but  the  sur- 
vival of  lower  attributes  from  a  prior  phase  of  evolution, 
or  not  infrequently  the  legitimate  protest  of  the  natural 
self  against  artificial  social  ethics.  It  was  the  creeds  that 
tortured  things  out  of  their  elemental  simplicity.  But 
for  him  the  old  craving  persisted.  That  alone  would  do. 
God,  God  —  he  was  God  -  intoxicated,  without  Spinoza's 
calm  or  Spinoza's  certainty.  Justice,  Pity,  Love — some- 
thing that  understood.  He  knew  it  was  sheer  blind  he- 
redity that  spoilt  his  life  for  liim — oh,  the  irony  of  it — 
and  that,  if  he  could  forget  his  sense  of  futility,  he  could 
live  beautifully  unto  himself.  The  wheels  of  chance  had 
ground  well  for  him.  But  his  soul  rejected  all  the  solu- 
tions and  self-equations  of  his  friends — the  all-sufficiency 
of  science,  of  art,  of  pleasure,  of  the  human  spectacle  ;  saw 
with  inexorable  insight  through  the  phantasmal  optimisms, 
refused  to  blind  itself  with  Platonisms  and  Hegelisms,  re- 
fused the  positions  of  sesthetes  and  artists  and  self-satis- 
fied German  savants,  equally  with  the  positions  of  conven- 
tional preachers,  demanded  justice  for  the  individual  down 
to  the  sparrow,  two  of  which  were  sold  in  the  market-place 
for  a  farthing,  and  a  significance  and  a  purpose  in  the 
secular  sweeji  of  destiny ;  yet  knew  all  the  while  that  Pur- 
pose was  as  anthropomorphic  a  conception  of  the  essence 
of  things  as  justice  or  goodness.  But  the  Avorld  without 
God  was  a  beautiful,  heartless  woman — cold,  irresponsive. 
He  needed  the  flash  of  soul.  He  had  experimented  in 
Nature — as  color,  form,  mystery — what  had  he  not  experi- 
mented in  ?     But  there  was  a  want,  a  void.     He  had  loved 

505 


DliEAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

Nature,  had  come  very  near  finding  peace  in  the  earth- 
passion,  in  tlie  intoxicating  smell  of  grass  and  flowers,  in 
the  scent  and  sound  of  the  sea,  in  the  rapture  of  striking 
through  the  cold,  salt  waves,  tossing  green  and  Avhite-fleck- 
ed  ;  ill  exchanged  for  any  heaven.  But  the  passion  always 
faded  and  the  old  hunger  for  God  came  back. 

He  had  found 'temporary  peace  with  iSpinoza's  God  :  the 
eternal  infinite  -  sided  Being,  of  whom  all  the  starry  infin- 
ities were  but  one  poor  expression,  and  to  love  whom  did 
not  imply  being  loved  in  return.  'Twas  magnificent  to  be 
lifted  up  in  worship  of  that  supernal  splendor.  But  the 
splendor  froze,  not  scorched.  Ho  wanted  the  eternal  Be- 
ing to  be  conscious  of  his  existence  ;  nay,  to  send  him  a 
whisper  that  He  was  not  a  metaphysical  figment.  Other- 
wise he  found  himself  saying  what  Voltaire  has  made  Spi- 
noza say:  " Je  crois,  entre  nous,  que  vous  n'existez  pas." 
Obedience  ?  Worship  ?  He  could  have  prostrated  him- 
self for  hours  on  the  flags,  worn  out  his  knees  in  prayer. 
0  Luther,  0  Galileo,  enemies  of  the  human  race  !  How 
wise  of  the  Church  to  burn  infidels,  who  would  burn  down 
the  spirit's  home — the  home  warm  with  the  love  and  treas- 
ures of  the  generations — and  leave  the  poor  human  soul 
naked  and  shivering  amid  the  cold  countless  worlds.  0 
Napoleon,  arch-fiend,  who,  opening  the  Ghettos,  where  the 
Jews  crouched  in  narrow  joy  over  the  JSabbath  fire,  let  in 
upon  them  the  weight  of  the  universe. 

And  an  ox  came  and  drank  the  wafer,  which  had  exit n- 
ff  a  i. shed  I  he  fire,  which  had  burnt  the  staff,  which  had  smitten 
the  do(j,  which  had  bitten  the  cat,  which  had  decoured  the 
kid,  which  my  father  bought  for  two  zuzim.  Chad  Gadi/a  ! 
Chad  Gadija  ! 

In  Vienna,  whence  he  had  come,  an  Israelite,  on  whom 
the  modern  universe  pressed,  yet  dreamed  tlie  old  dream 
of  a  Jewish  State — a  modern  State,  incarnation  of  all  the 

OOC 


CHAD    GADYA 

great  principles  won  by  the  travail  of  the  ages.  The  cha- 
meleon of  races  should  show  a  specific  color  :  a  Jewish  art, 
a  Jewish  architecture  would  be  born,  who  knew  ?  But  he, 
who  had  worked  for  Mazzini,  Avho  had  seen  his  hero  achieve 
that  greatest  of  all  defeats,  victory,  he  knew.  He  knew 
Avhat  would  come  of  it,  even  if  it  came.  He  understood 
the  fate  of  Christ  and  of  all  idealists,  doomed  to  see  them- 
selves worshijoped  and  their  ideas  rejected  in  a  religion  or  a 
State  founded  like  a  national  monument  to  perpetuate  their 
defeat.  But  the  Jewish  State  Avould  not  even  come.  He  had 
met  his  Viennese  brethren  but  yesterday ;  in  the  Leopold- 
stadt,  frowsy  with  the  gaberdines  and  side-curls  of.  Galicia ; 
in  the  Prater,  arrogantly  radiant  in  gleaming  carriages  with 
spick-and-span  footmen — that  strange  race  that  could  build 
^^p  cities  for  others  but  never  for  itself  ;  that  professed  to 
be  both  a  religion  and  a  nationality,  and  was  often  neither. 
The  grotesquerie  of  history  !  Moses,  Sinai,  Palestine, 
Isaiah,  Ezra,  the  Temple,  Christ,  the  Exile,  the  Ghettos, 
the  Martyrdoms  —  all  this  to  give  the  Austrian  comic 
papers  jokes  about  stockbrokers  with  noses  big  enough  to 
support  unheld  opera -glasses.  And  even  supposing  an- 
otlier  miraculous  link  came  to  add  itself  to  that  wonderful 
chain,  the  happier  Jews  of  the  new  State  would  be  born 
into  it  as  children  to  an  enriched  man,  unconscious  of  the 
struggles,  accepting  the  luxuries,  growing  big-bellied  and 
narro\v-souled.  The  Temple  would  be  rebuilt.  Et  aprcs? 
The  architect  would  send  in  the  bill.  People  Avould  dine 
and  dig  one  another  in  the  ribs  and  tell  the  old  smoking- 
room  stories.  There  would  be  fashionable  dressmakers. 
The  synagogue  would  persecute  those  who  were  larger  than 
it,  the  professional  priests  would  prate  of  spiritualities  to 
an  applausive  animal  world,  the  press  would  be  run  in  the 
interests  of  capitalists  and  politicians,  the  little  writers 
would  grow  spiteful  against  those  Avho  did  not  call  them 

507 


DKEAMEE8    OF    THE    GHETTO 

great,  the  managers  of  tlie  national  theatre  would  ad- 
vance their  mistresses  to  leading  parts.  Yes,  the  ox  would 
come  and  drink  the  Avater,  and  Jeshurun  would  wax  fat 
and  kick.  "  For  that  which  is  crooked  cannot  he  made 
straight."  ]\Ienander's  comedies  Avere  fresli  from  the  mint, 
the  Book  of  Proverbs  as  new  as  the  morning  paper.  No, 
he  could  not  dream.  Let  the  younger  races  dream  ;  the 
oldest  of  races  knew  better.  The  race  that  was  first  to 
dream  the  beautiful  dream  of  a  Millennium  was  the  first  to 
discard  it.  Nay,  was  it  even  a  beautiful  dream  ?  Every 
man  under  his  own  fig-tree,  forsootli,  obese  and  somnolent, 
the  spirit  disintegrated  !  Omnia  Vanitas,  this  too  was 
vanity. 

And  the  slaugliterer  came  and  sJmiglitered  the  ox,  which 
had  drunk  the  loater,  which  had  extinguished  the  fire,  ivhich 
had  hurnt  the  staff,  which  had  smitten  the  dog,  which  had 
bitten  the  cat,  which  had  devoured  the  kid^  ichich  my  father 
hought  for  two  zuzim.     Chad  Gadya !     Chad  Gadyal 

Chad  Gadya  !  Chad  Gadya  I  He  had  never  thought  of 
the  meaning  of  the  words,  always  connected  them  with  the 
finish  of  the  ceremony.  "^  All  over  I  All  over  I"  they 
seemed  to  Avail,  and  in  the  quaint  music  there  seemed  a 
sense  of  infinite  disillusion,  of  infinite  rest ;  a  Avinding-up, 
a  conclusion,  things  over  and  done  Avith,  a  fever  subsided, 
a  toil  completed,  a  clamor  abated,  a  farewell  knell,  a  little 
folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep. 

Chad  Gadya !  Chad  Gadya  !  It  Avas  a  Avail  over  the 
struggle  for  existence,  the  purposeless  procession  of  the 
ages,  the  passing  of  the  ancient  empires — as  the  commenta- 
tors had  pointed  out  —  and  of  the  modern  empires  that 
Avould  pass  on  to  join  them,  till  the  earth  itself — as  the 
scientists  had  pointed  out — passed  aAvay  in  cold  and  dark- 
ness. Flux  and  reflux,  the  fire  and  the  Avater,  the  Avater 
and  the  fire !     He  thought  of  the  imperturbable  skeletons 

508 


CHAD    GADYA 

that  still  awaited  exhumation  in  Pompeii,  the  swaddled 
mummies  of  the  Pharaohs,  the  undiminished  ashes  of  for- 
gotten lovers  in  old  Etruscan  tombs.  lie  had  a  flashing 
sense  of  the  great  pageant  of  the  Medigeval — popes,  kings, 
crusaders,  friars,  beggars,  peasants,  flagellants,  schoolmen  ; 
of  the  vast  modern  life  in  Paris,  Vienna,  Home,  London, 
Berlin,  New  York,  Chicago  ;  the  brilliant  life  of  the  fash- 
ionable quarters,  the  babble  of  the  Bohemias,  the  poor  in 
their  slums,  the  sick  on  their  beds  of  pain,  the  soldiers,  the 
prostitutes,  the  slaveys  in  lodging-houses,  the  criminals, 
the  lunatics  ;  the  vast  hordes  of  Russia,  the  life  pullulating 
in  the  swarming  boats  on  Chinese  rivers,  the  merry  butter- 
fly life  of  Japan,  the  unknown  savages  of  mid- Africa  with 
their  fetishes  and  war-dances,  the  tribes  of  the  East  sleep- 
ing in  tents  or  turning  uneasily  on  the  hot  terraces  of  their 
houses,  the  negro  races  growing  into  such  a  terrible  prob- 
lem in  the  United  States,  and  each  of  all  these  peoples, 
nay,  each  unit  of  any  people,  thinking  itself  the  centre  of 
the  universe,  and  of  its  love  and  care  ;  the  destiny  of 
the  races  no  clearer  than  the  destiny  of  the  individuals 
and  no  diviner  than  the  life  of  insects,  and  all  the 
vast  sweep  of  history  nothing  but  a  spasm  in  the  life  of 
one  of  the  meanest  of  an  obscure  group  of  worlds,  in  an 
infinity  of  vaster  constellations.  Oh,  it  was  too  great !  He 
could  not  look  on  the  face  of  his  own  God  and  live.  With- 
out the  stereoscopic  illusions  which  made  his  father's  life 
solid,  he  could  not  continue  to  exist.  His  point  of  view 
was  hopelessly  cosmic.  All  was  equally  great  and  myste- 
rious ?  Yes  ;  but  all  was  equally  small  and  commonplace. 
Kant's  Starry  Infinite  Without?  Bah!  Mere  lumps  of 
mud  going  round  in  a  tee-totum  dance,  and  getting  hot 
over  it ;  no  more  than  the  spinning  of  specks  in  a  drop 
of  dirty  water.  Size  was  nothing  in  itself.  There  Avere 
mountains  and  seas  in  a  morsel  of  wet  mud,  picturesque 

509 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

enough  for  microscopic  tourists.  A  billion  billion  morsels 
of  wet  mud  Avere  no  more  imposing  than  one.  Geology, 
chemistry,  astronomy — they  were  all  in  the  splashes  of  mud 
from  a  passing  carriage.  Everywhere  one  law  and  one 
futility.  The  human  race  ?  Strange  marine  monsters 
crawling  about  in  the  bed  of  an  air-ocean,  unable  to  swim 
upwards,  oddly  tricked  out  in  the  stolen  skins  of  other 
creatures.  As  absurd,  impartially  considered,  as  the 
strange  creatures  quaintly  adapted  to  curious  environ- 
ments one  saw  in  aquaria.  Kant's  Moral  Law  Within! 
Dissoluble  by  a  cholera  germ,  a  curious  blue  network  under 
the  microscope,  not  unlike  a  map  of  Venice.  Yes,  the 
cosmic  and  the  comic  were  one.  Why  be  bullied  into  the 
Spinozistic  awe  ?  Perhaps  Heine  —  that  other  Jew — saw 
more  truly,  and  man's  last  word  on  the  universe  into  which 
he  had  been  projected  unasked,  might  be  a  mockery  of  that 
Avhich  had  mocked  him,  a  laugh  with  tears  in  it. 

And  he,  he  foreshadowed  the  future  of  all  races,  as  well 
as  of  his  own.  They  would  all  go  on  struggling,  till  they 
became  self-conscious  ;  then,  like  children  grown  to  men, 
the  scales  falling  from  their  eyes,  they  would  suddenly  ask 
themselves  what  it  was  all  about,  and,  realizing  that  they 
were  being  driven  along  by  blind  forces  to  labor  and  strug- 
gle and  strive,  they  too  would  pass  away  ;  the  gross  childish 
races  would  sweep  them  up,  Xature  pouring  out  new  ener- 
gies from  her  inexhaustible  fount.  For  strength  was  in  the 
unconscious,  and  when  a  nation  paused  to  ask  of  itself  its 
right  to  Empire,  its  Empire  was  already  over.  The  old  Pales- 
tine Hebrew,  sacrificing  his  sheep  to  Yahweh,  what  a  gran- 
ite figure  compared  with  himself,  infinitely  subtle  and  mo- 
bile !  For  a  century  or  two  the  modern  world  would  take 
pleasure  in  seeing  itself  reflected  in  literature  and  art  by 
its  most  decadent  spirits,  in  vibrating  to  the  pathos  and 
picturcsqueness  of  all  the  periods  of  man's  mysterious  ex- 

510 


CHAD    GADYA 

isteuce  on  this  queer  little  planet ;  while  the  old  geocentric 
ethics,  oddly  clinging  on  to  the  changed  cosmogony,  would 
keep  life  clean.  But  all  that  Avould  pall — and  then  the 
deluge  I 

There  was  a  waft  of  merry  music  from  without.  He  rose 
and  went  noiselessly  to  the  window  and  looked  out  into  the 
night.  A  full  moon  hung  in  the  heavens,  perpendicularly 
and  low,  so  that  it  seemed  a  terrestrial  object  in  comparison 
with  the  stars  scattered  above,  glory  beyond  glory,  and  in 
that  lucent  Italian  atmosphere  making  him  feel  himself  of 
their  shining  company,  whirling  through  the  infinite  void 
on  one  of  the  innumerable  spheres.  A  broad  silver  green 
patch  of  moonlight  lay  on  the  dark  water,  dwindling  into 
a  string  of  dancing  gold  pieces.  Adown  the  canal  the 
black  gondolas  clustered  round  a  barca  lighted  by  gaily 
colored  lanterns,  whence  the  music  came.  Funiculi,  Fu- 
nicula — it  seemed  to  dance  with  the  ver}^  s]oirit  of  joyous- 
ness.  He  saw  a  young  couple  holding  hands.  He  knew 
they  were  English,  that  strange,  happy,  solid,  conquering 
race.  Something  vibrated  in  him.  He  thought  of  bride- 
grooms, youth,  strength ;  but  it  was  as  the  hollow  echo  of 
a  far-off  regret,  some  vague  sunrise  of  gold  over  hills  of 
dream.  Then  a  beautiful  tenor  voice  began  to  sing  Schu- 
bert's Serenade.  It  was  as  the  very  voice  of  hopeless  pas- 
sion ;  the  desire  of  the  moth  for  the  star,  of  man  for  God. 
Death,  death,  at  any  cost,  death  to  end  this  long  ghastly 
creeping  about  the  purlieus  of  life.  Life  even  for  a  single 
instant  longer,  life  without  God,  seemed  intolerable.  He 
would  find  peace  in  the  bosom  of  that  black  water.  He 
would  glide  downstairs  now,  speaking  no  word. 

And  the  Anxjel  of  Death  came  and  slew  the  slaughterer, 
which  had  slaughtered  the  ox,  which  had  drunk  the  water, 
which  had  extinguished  the  fire,  which  had  burnt  the  staff, 
which  had  smitten  the  dog,  which  had  bitten  the  cat,  which 

511 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

had  devoured  the  kid,  lohich  my  father  bought  for  two  zuzim. 
Chad  Gadija!     Chad  Gadya! 

AVhen  they  should  find  him  accidentally  drowned,  for 
how  could  the  world  understand,  the  world  which  yet  had 
never  been  backward  to  judge  him,  that  a  man  with  youth, 
health,  wealth,  and  a  measure  of  fame  should  take  his  own 
life  ;  his  people  would  think,  perhaps,  that  it  was  a  ghost 
that  had  sat  at  the  Seder  table  so  silent  and  noiseless.  And, 
indeed,  what  but  a  ghost  ?  One  need  not  die  to  hover  out- 
side the  warm  circle  of  life,  stretching  vain  arms.  A 
ghost  ?  He  had  always  been  a  ghost.  From  childhood 
those  strange  solid  people  had  come  and  talked  and  walked 
with  him,  and  he  had  glided  among  them,  an  unreal  spirit, 
to  which  they  gave  flesh-and-blood  motives  like  their  own. 
As  a  child  death  had  seemed  horrible  to  him ;  red  worms 
crawling  over  white  flesh.  Now  his  thoughts  always  stopped 
at  the  glad  moment  of  giving  up  the  ghost.  More  lives 
beyond  the  grave  ?  Why,  the  world  was  not  large  enough 
for  one  life.  It  had  to  repeat  itself  incessantly.  Books, 
newspapers,  what  tedium  !  A  few  ideas  deftly  re-combined. 
For  there  was  nothing  new  under  the  sun.  Life  like  a 
tale  told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury,  and  signify- 
ing nothing.  Shakespeare  had  found  the  supreme  expres- 
sion for  it  as  for  everything  in  it. 

He  stole  out  softly  through  the  half -open  door,  went 
through  the  vast  antechamber,  full  of  tapestry  and  figures 
of  old  Venetians  in  armor,  down  the  wide  staircase,  into 
the  great  courtyard  that  looked  strange  and  sepulchral 
when  he  struck  a  match  to  find  the  water-portal,  and  saw 
his  shadow  curving  monstrous  along  the  ribbed  roof,  and 
leering  at  the  spacious  gloom.  He  opened  the  great  doors 
gently,  and  came  out  into  the  soft  spring  night  air.  All 
was  silent  now.  The  narrow  side-canal  had  a  glimmer  of 
moonlight,  the  opposite  palace  was  black,  with  one  spot  of 

512 


CHAD    GADYA 

light  where  a  window  shone  :  overhead  in  the  narrow  rift 
of  dark -blue  sky  a  flock  of  stars  flew  like  bright  birds 
through  the  soft  velvet  gloom.  The  water  lapped  mourn- 
fully against  the  marble  steps,  and  a  gondola  lay  moored 
to  the  posts,  gently  nodding  to  its  black  shadow  in  tlie 
Avater. 

He  walked  to  where  the  water  -  alley  met  the  deeper 
Grand  Canal,  and  let  himself  slide  down  with  a  soft,  sub- 
dued splash.  He  found  himself  struggling,  but  he  con- 
quered the  instinctive  will  to  live. 

But  as  he  sank  for  the  last  time,  the  mystery  of  the  night 
and  the  stars  and  death  mingled  with  a  strange  whirl  of 
childish  memories  instinct  with  the  wonder  of  life,  and  the 
immemorial  HebreAV  words  of  the  dying  Jew  beat  outwards 
to  his  gurgling  throat:  "Hear,  0  Israel,  the  Lord  our 
God,  the  Lord  is  One." 

Through  the  open  doorway  floated  down  the  last  words 
of  the  hymn  and  the  service  : — 

Aiid  the  Holy  One  came,  blessed  be  Be,  and  slew  the  Angel 
of  Death,  who  had  slain  the  slaughterer,  who  had  slaughtered 
the  ox,  luhich  had  drunk  the  water,  lohich  had  extinguished 
the  fire,  which  had  burnt  the  staff,  which  had  smitten  the  dog, 
ivhich  had  bitten  the  cat,  which  had  devoured  the  hid,  which 
my  father  bought  for  tivo  zuzim.  Chad  Gadya!  Chad 
Gadya ! 


EPILOGUE 
A  MODERN  SCRIBE  IN  JERUSALEM 


Outside  the  Avails  of  Jerusalem,  on  the  bleak  roadless 
way  to  the  Mount  of  Olives,  Avithin  sight  of  the  domes  and 
minarets  of  the  sacred  city,  and  looking  towards  the  mosque 
of  Omar  —  arrogantly  a -glitter  on  the  site  of  Solomon's 
Temple — there  perches  among  black,  barren  rocks  a  colony 
of  Ara,bian  Jews  from  Yemen. 

These  all  but  cave-dwellers,  grimy  caftaned  figures,  with 
swarthy  faces,  coal-black  ringlets,  and  hungry  eyes,  have 
for  sole  public  treasure  a  synagogue,  consisting  of  a  small 
room,  furnished  only  Avith  an  Ark,  and  bare  even  of  seats. 

In  this  room  a  Scribe  of  to-day,  humblest  in  Israel,  yet 
with  the  gift  of  vision,  stood  turning  over  the  few  old  books 
that  lay  about,  strange  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the  great 
world-currents  that  have  drifted  Israel  to  and  fro.  And 
to  him  bending  over  a  copy  of  the  mystic  Zoliar, — that 
thirteenth  century  Cabalistic  classic,  forged  in  Chaldaic  by 
a  Jew  of  Spain,  Avhich  paved  the  way  for  the  Turkish  Mes- 
siah— was  brought  a  little  child. 

A  little  boy  in  his  father's  arms,  his  image  in  miniature, 
with  a  miniature  grimy  caftan  and  miniature  coal  -  black 

514 


A    MODERN    SCRIBE    IN    JERUSALEM 

ringlets  beneath  his  little  black  skull-cap.  A  human  cu- 
riosity brought  to  interest  the  stranger  and  increase  his 
hakhshtsh. 

For  lo  !  the  little  boy  had  six  fingers  on  his  right  hand  ! 
The  child  held  it  shyly  clenched,  but  the  father  forcibly 
parted  the  fingers  to  exhibit  them. 

And  the  child  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept  bitterly. 

And  so,  often  in  after  days  when  the  Scribe  thought  of 
Jerusalem,  it  was  not  of  what  he  had  been  told  he  would 
think  ;  not  of  Prophets  and  Angels  and  Crusaders — only 
of  the  crying  of  that  little  six-fingered  Jewish  child,  washed 
by  the  great  tides  of  human  history  on  to  the  black  rocks 
near  the  foot  of  the  Mount  of  Olives. 


II 

Jerusalem — centre  of  pilgrimage  to  three  great  religions 
— unholiest  city  under  the  sun  ! 

"For  from  Zion  the  Law  shall  go  forth  and  the  Word 
of  God  from  Jerusalem."  Gone  forth  of  a  sooth,  thought 
the  Scribe,  leaving  in  Jerusalem  itself  only  the  swarming 
of  sects  about  the  corpse  of  Religion. 

No  prophetic  centre,  this  Zion,  even  for  Israel;  only  the 
stagnant,  stereotyped  activity  of  excommunicating  Rabbis, 
and  the  capricious  distribution  of  the  paralyzing  Chalukah, 
leaving  an  appalling  multitudinous  poverty  agonizing  in 
the  steep  refuse-laden  alleys.  The  faint  stirrings  of  new 
life,  the  dim  desires  of  young  Israel  to  regenerate  at  once 
itself  and  the  soil  of  Palestine,  the  lofty  patriotism  of  im- 
migrant Dreamers  as  yet  unable  to  overcome  the  long 
lethargy  of  holy  study  and  of  prayers  for  rain.  A  city 
where  men  go  to  die,  but  not  to  live. 

An  accursed  city,  priest-ridden  and  pauperized,  with 

515 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

cripples  dragging  about  its  shrines  and  lepers  burrowing 
at  the  Zion  gate  ;  but  a  city  infinitely  pathetic,  infinitely 
romantic  withal,  a  centre  through  which  pass  all  the  great 
threads  of  history,  ancient  and  mediaeval,  and  now  at  last 
quivering  Avith  the  telegraphic  thread  of  the  modern,  yet 
only  the  more  charged  with  the  pathos  of  the  past  and  the 
tears  of  things ;  symbol  not  only  of  the  tragedy  of  the 
Christ,  but  of  the  tragedy  of  his  people,  nay  of  the  great 
world-tragedy. 

Ill 

On"  the  Eve  of  the  Passover  and  Easter,  the  Scribe  ar- 
rived at  the  outer  fringe  of  the  rainbow-robed,  fur-capped 
throng  that  shook  in  passionate  lamentation  before  that 
Titanic  fragment  of  Temple  Wall,  Avhich  is  the  sole  relic 
of  Israel's  national  glories.  Roaring  billows  of  hysterical 
prayer  beat  against  the  monstrous,  symmetric  blocks,  quar. 
ried  by  King  Solomon's  servants  and  smoothed  by  the  kissesi 
of  the  generations.  A  Fatherland  lost  eighteen  hundred] 
years  ago,  and  still  this  strange  indomitable  race  hoped  on 

"Hasten,  hasten,  0  Redeemer  of  Zion." 

And  from  amid  the  mourners,  one  tall,  stately  figure, 
robed  in  purple  velvet,  turned  his  face  to  the  Scribe,  saying, 
with  out-stretched  hand  and  in  a  voice  of  ineffable  love- 

"  Shalom  Aleichem." 

And  the  Scribe  was  shaken,  for  lo !  it  was  the  face  of 
the  Christ. 

IV 

Did  he  haunt  the  Wailing  Wall,  then,  sharing  the  woe 
of  his  brethren  ?  For  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre the  Scribe  found  him  not. 

516 


A    MODEEN    SCRIBE    IN    JERUSALEM 


The  Scribe  had  slipt  in  half  disguised  :  no  Jew  being  al- 
lowed even  in  the  courtyard  or  the  precincts  of  the  sacred 
place.  His  first  open  attempt  had  been  frustrated  by  the 
Turkish  soldiers  who  kept  the  narrow  approach  to  the 
courtyard.  "  Ruh!  EnisM!"  they  had  shouted  fiercely, 
and  the  Scribe  recklessly  refusing  to  turn  back  had  been 
expelled  by  violence.  A  blessing  in  disguise,  his  friends 
had  told  him,  for  should  the  Greek-Church  fanatics  have 
become  aware  of  him,  he  might  have  perished  in  a  minia- 
ture Holy  War.  And  as  he  fought  his  way  through  the 
crowd  to  gain  the  shelter  of  a  balcony,  he  felt  indeed  that 
one  ugly  rush  would  suffice  to  crush  him. 


VI 

Ix  the  sepulchral  incense -laden  dusk  of  the  uncouth 
Church,  in  the  religious  gloom  punctuated  by  the  perva- 
sive twinkle  of  a  thousand  hanging  lamps  of  silver,  was 
wedged  and  blent  a  suffocating  mass  of  palm-bearing  hu- 
manity of  all  nations  and  races,  the  sumptuously  clothed 
and  the  ragged,  the  hale  and  the  unsightly ;  the  rainbow 
colors  of  the  East  relieved  by  the  white  of  the  shrouded 
females,  toned  down  by  the  sombre  shabbiness  of  the  Rus- 
sian moiijihs  and  peasant-women,  and  pierced  by  a  vivid 
circular  line  of  red  fezzes  on  the  unbared,  unreverential 
heads  of  the  Turkish  regiment  keeping  order  among  the 
jostling  jealousies  of  Christendom,  whose  rival  churches 
swarm  around  the  strange,  glittering,  candle -illumined 
Rotunda  that  covers  the  tomb  of  Christ.  Not  an  inch  of 
free  space  anywhere  under  this  shadow  of  Golgotha  :  a  per- 

517 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

petual  sway  to  and  fro  of  the  Imman  tides,  seething  with 
sobs  and  quarrels ;  flowing  into  the  pUmless  maze  of  chap- 
els and  churches  of  all  ages  and  architectures,  that,  perched 
on  rocks  or  hewn  into  their  mouldy  darkness,  magnificent 
with  untold  church-treasure  —  Armenian,  Syrian,  Coptic, 
Latin,  Greek,  Abyssinian — add  the  resonance  of  their  spe- 
cial sanctities  and  the  oppression  of  their  individual  glories 
of  vestment  and  ceremonial  to  the  surcharged  atmosphere 
palpitant  with  exaltation  and  prayer  and  mystic  bell-tink- 
lings  ;  overspreading  the  thirty-seven  sacred  spots,  and  ooz- 
ing into  the  holy  of  holies  itself,  towards  that  impassive 
marble  stone,  goal  of  the  world's  desire  in  the  blaze  of  the 
ever  burning  lamps  ;  and  overflowing  into  the  screaming 
courtyard,  amid  the  flagstone  stalls  of  chaplets  and  crosses 
and  carven-shells,  and  the  rapacious  rabble  of  cripples  and 
vendors. 

And  amid  the  frenzied  squeezing  and  squabbling,  way 
was  miraculously  made  for  a  dazzling  procession  of  the 
Only  Orthodox  Church,  moving  statelily  round  and  round, 
to  the  melting  strains  of  unseen  singing  boys  and  preceded 
by  an  upborne  olive-tree  ;  seventy  priests  in  flowering  dam- 
ask, carrying  palms  or  swinging  censers,  boys  in  green,  up- 
lifting silken  banners  richly  broidered  with  sacred  scenes, 
archimandrites  attended  by  deacons,  and  bearing  symbolic 
triuitarian  candlesticks,  bishops  with  mitres,  and  last  and 
most  gorgeous  of  all,  the  sceptred  Patriarch  bowing  to  the 
tiny  Coptic  Church  in  the  corner,  as  his  priests  wheel  and 
swing  their  censers  towards  it — all  the  elaborately  jewelled 
ritual  evolved  by  alien  races  from  the  simple  life  and  teach- 
ing of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

"  O  Jesus,  brother  in  Israel,  perhaps  only  those  excluded 
from  this  sanctuary  of  thine  can  understand  thee  !" 


A    MODERN    SCRIBE    IN    JERUSALEM 


VII 

So  thought  the  Scribe,  as  from  the  comparative  safety  of 
an  upper  monastery  where  no  Jewish  foot  had  ever  trod, 
he  looked  down  upon  the  glowing,  heaving  mass.  The  right 
emotion  did  not  come  to  him.  He  was  irritated ;  the 
thought  of  entering  so  historic  and  so  Jewish  a  shrine 
only  at  peril  of  his  life,  recalled  the  long  intolerance  of 
mediaeval  Christendom,  the  Dark  Ages  of  the  Ghettos. 
His  imagination  conjured  up  an  ironic  vision  of  himself  as 
the  sport  of  that  seething  mob,  saw  himself  seeking  a  last 
refuge  in  the  Sepulchre,  and  falling  dead  across  the  holy 
tomb.  And  then  the  close  air  charged  with  all  those 
breaths  and  candles  and  censers,  the  je^velled  pageantry 
flaunted  in  that  city  of  squalor  and  starvation,  the  military 
line  of  contemptuous  Mussulmen  comiDlicating  the  mutual 
contempt  of  the  Christian  sects,  and  reminding  him  of  the 
obligation  on  a  new  Jewish  State,  if  it  ever  came,  to  safe- 
guard these  divine  curios  ;  the  grotesque  incongruity  of  all 
this  around  the  tomb  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  the  tomb 
itself  of  very  dubious  authenticity,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
thirty-six  parasitical  sanctities  !  .  .  . 

He  thought  of  the  even  more  tumultuous  scene  about  to 
be  enacted  here  on  the  day  of  the  Greek  fire  :  when  in  the 
awful  darkness  of  extinguished  lamps,  through  a  rift  in 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  within  which  the  Patriarch  prayed  in 
solitude  and  darkness,  a  tongue  of  heavenly  flame  would 
shoot,  God's  annual  witness  to  the  exclusive  rightness  of 
the  Greek  Church,  and  the  poor  foot-sore  pilgrims,  mad 
with  ecstasy,  would  leap  over  one  another  to  kindle  their 
candles  and  torches  at  it,  Avhile  a  vessel  now  riding  at  an- 
chor would  haste  witii  its  freight  of  sacred  flame  to  kindle 
the  church-lamps  of  Holy  Russia. 

519 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

And  then  the  long  historic  tragi-comedy  of  warring  sects 
swept  before  him,  the  Greek  Church  regarding  the  Roman 
as  astray  in  the  sacraments  of  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per ;  at  one  with  the  Protestant  only  in  not  praying  to  the 
Virgin  ;  every  new  misreading  of  human  texts  sufficing 
to  start  a  new  heresy. 

VIII 

He  hated  Palestine  :  the  Jordan,  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
the  holy  bazaars,  the  geographical  sanctity  of  shrines  and 
soils,  the  long  torture  of  prophetic  texts  and  apocalyptic 
interpretations,  all  the  devotional  maunderings  of  the  fool 
and  the  Philistine.  He  would  have  had  the  Bible  pro- 
hibited for  a  century  or  two,  till  mankind  should  be  able  to 
read  it  with  fresh  vision  and  true  profit.  He  wished  that 
Christ  had  crucified  the  Jews  and  defeated  the  plan  for 
the  world's  salvation.  0  happy  Christ,  to  have  died  with- 
out foresight  of  the  Crusades  or  the  Inquisition  ! 


IX 

Irritation  passed  into  an  immense  pity  for  humanity, 
crucified  upon  the  cross  whose  limbs  are  Time  and  Space. 
Those  poor  Russian  pilgrims  faring  foot -sore  across  the 
great  frozen  plains,  lured  on  by  this  mirage  of  blessedness, 
sleeping  by  the  wayside,  and  sometimes  never  waking 
again  !  Poor  humanity,  like  a  blind  Oriental  beggar  on 
the  deserted  roadway  crying  Bakhshish  to  vain  skies, 
from  whose  hollow  and  futile  spaces  floats  the  lone  word, 
Mdfish  —  "there  is  nothing."  At  least  let  it  be  ours  to 
cover  the  poorest  life  with  that  human  love  and  pity  which 
is  God's  vicegerent  on  earth,  and  to  pass  it  gently  into  the 
unknown. 

520 


A    MODERN    SCRIBE    IN    JERUSALEM 


But  since  Christianity  already  covered  these  poor  lives 
with  love  and  pity,  let  them  live  in  the  beautiful  illusion, 
so  long  as  the  ugly  facts  did  not  break  through  !  What 
mattered  if  these  sites  were  true  or  false — the  believing 
soul  had  made  them  true.  All  these  stones  were  holy, 
if  only  with  the  tears  of  the  generations.  The  Greek  fire 
might  be  a  shameless  fraud,  but  the  true  heavenly  flame 
was  the  faith  in  it.  The  Christ  story  might  be  false,  but 
it  had  idealized  the  basal  things — love,  pity,  self-sacrifice, 
purity,  motherhood.  And  if  any  divine  force  worked 
through  history,  then  must  the  great  common  illusions  of 
mankind  also  be  divine.  And  in  a  world — itself  an  illusion 
— what  truths  could  there  be  save  working  truths,  estab- 
lished by  natural  selection  in  the  spiritual  world,  varying 
for  different  races,  and  maintaining  themselves  by  corre- 
spondence with  the  changing  needs  of  the  spirit  ? 


XI 

Absolute  religious  truth  ?  How  could  there  be  such  a 
thing  ?  As  well  say  German  was  truer  than  French,  or 
that  Greek  was  more  final  than  Arabic.  Its  religion  like 
its  speech  was  the  way  the  deepest  instincts  of  a  race  found 
expression,  and  like  a  language  a  religion  was  dead  when 
it  ceased  to  change.  Each  religion  gave  the  human  soul 
something  great  to  love,  to  live  by,  and  to  die  for.  And 
whosoever  lived  in  joyous  surrender  to  some  greatness  out- 
side himself  had  religion,  even  though  the  world  called 
him  atheist.  The  finest  souls  too  easily  abandoned  the 
best  words  to  the  stupidest  people. 

521 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

The  time  had  come  for  a  new  religious  expression,  a  new 
language  for  the  old  everlasting  emotions,  in  terms  of  the 
modern  cosmos  ;  a  religion  that  should  contradict  no  fact 
and  check  no  inquiry  ;  so  that  children  should  grow  up 
again  with  no  distracting  divorce  from  their  parents  and 
their  past,  with  no  break  in  the  sweet  sanctities  of  child- 
hood, which  carry  on  to  old  age  something  of  the  freshness 
of  early  sensation,  and  are  a  fount  of  tears  in  the  desert  of 
life. 

The  ever-living,  darkly-laboring  Hebraic  spirit  of  love 
and  righteous  aspiration,  the  Holy  Ghost  that  had  inspired 
Judaism  and  Christianity,  and  moved  equally  in  Moham- 
medanism and  Protestantism,  must  now  quicken  and  in- 
form the  new  learning,  which  still  lay  dead  and  foreign, 
outside  humanity. 

XII 

If  Evolution  was  a  truth,  what  mystic  force  working  in 
life  !  From  the  devil-fish  skulking  towards  his  prey  to  the 
Christian  laying  down  his  life  for  his  fellow,  refusing  the 
reward  of  the  stronger ;  from  the  palpitating  sac  —  all 
stomach— of  embryonic  life  to  the  poet,  the  musician,  the 
great  thinker.  The  animality  of  average  humanity  made 
for  hope  rather  than  for  despair,  when  one  remembered 
from  what  it  had  developed.  It  was  for  man  in  this  labor- 
ing cosmos  to  unite  himself  with  the  stream  that  made  for 
goodness  and  beauty. 

XIII 

A  soxQ  came  to  him  of  the  true  God,  whose  name  is  one 
with  Past,  Present,  and  Future. 


A    MODERN    SCRIBE    IN   JERUSALEM 


YAHWEH 

I  sing  the  uplift  and  the  upwelling, 

I  sing  the  yearning  towards  the  sun, 

And  the  blind  sea  that  lifts  white  hands  of  prayer. 

I  sing  the  wild  battle  -  cry  of  warriors  and  the  sweet  whispers 

of  lovers, 
The  dear  word  of  the  hearth  and  the  altar. 
Aspiration,  Inspiration,  Compensation, 

God! 

The  hint  of  beauty  behind  the  turbid  cities, 
The  eternal  laws  that  cleanse  and  cancel. 
The  pity  through  the  savagery  of  nature, 
The  love  atoning  for  the  brothels, 
The  Master-Artist  behind  his  tragedies, 
Creator,  Destroyer,  Purifier,  Avenger, 

God! 

Come  into  the  circle  of  Love  and  Justice, 

Come  into  the  brotherhood  of  Pity, 

Of  Holiness  and  Health  ! 

Strike  out  glad  limbs  upon  the  sunny  waters. 

Or  be  dragged  down  amid  the  rotting  weeds, 

The  festering  bodies. 

Save  thy  soul  from  sandy  barrenness. 

Let  it  blossom  with  roses  and  gleam  with  the  living  waters. 

Blame  not,  nor  reason  of,  your  Past, 

Nor  explain  to  Him  your  congenital  weakness, 

But  come,  for  He  is  remorseless. 

Call  Him  unjust,  but  come. 

Do  not  mock  or  defy  Him,  for  he  will  prevail. 

He  regardeth  not  you.  He  hath  swallowed  the  worlds  and  the 
nations, 

He  hath  humor,  too :    disease  and   death  for  the  smugly  pros- 
perous. 

523 


DREAMERS    OF    THE    GHETTO 

For  such  is  the  Law,  stern,  unchangeable,  shining ; 

Making  clung  from  souls  and  souls  from  dung ; 

Thrilling  the  dust  to  holy,  beautiful  spirit, 

And  returning  the  spirit  to  dust. 

Come  and  ye  shall  know  Peace  aud  Joy. 

Let  what  ye  desire  of  the  Universe  penetrate  you, 

Let  Loving-kindness  and  Mercy  pass  through  you, 

And  Truth  be  the  Law  of  your  mouth. 

For  so  ye  are  channels  of  the  divine  sea. 

Which  may  not  flood  the  earth  but  only  steal  in 

Through  rifts  in  your  souls. 


APPENDIX 


TO  THE  AMERICAN  JEW 

This  book  was  written  for  the  world  at  large — to  suggest 
to  it  the  underlying  unity  of  Israel's  dreamers,  whether 
rejected  or  accepted  of  Israel,  whether  their  dreams  agree 
or  differ ;  their  common  largeness  of  vision  ;  that  contin- 
uous humanitarian  inspiration  which  neither  the  Ghetto 
walls  nor  the  Ghetto  creed  could  stifle. 

This  book  was  written  for  the  world,  for  Christian  and 
Jew  alike.  The  artist,  as  artist,  is  of  all  parties  and  none  ; 
he  is  touched  by  the  beauty,  the  pathos,  the  tragedy,  the 
wonder  of  all  the  creation.  He  must  stand  alone  :  for  him 
union  is  weakness. 

But  because  he  is  of  no  sect,  his  vision  may  be  of  help  to 
all  sects,  his  search  for  truth  from  his  lonely  Avatch-tower 
may  haply  reveal  what  both  partisan  and  antagonist  may 
miss. 

To  you,  who  blend  the  latest  and  oldest  births  of  Time, 
the  Orient  and  the  Occident,  to  you  whom  the  sparkling 
air  of  the  New  World  has  infused  with  the  energy  to  give 
yet  another  expression  to  the  Dream  of  the  Ghetto,  the 
faithful  chronicler  of  its  Dreamers  permits  himself  a  spe- 
cial word. 

It  is  the  most  characteristic  mark  of  the  earliest  chron- 
icles of  Israel  that  they  were  not  written  like  all  other 

525 


APPENDIX 

national  chronicles  for  the  greater  glory  of  the  race,  but 
rather  for  its  castigation  and  stimulation  to  higher  living. 
There  are  no  grandiose  heroes  in  the  Old  Testament,  no 
impeccable  figures  of  saints.  Moses  himself  comes  under 
censure,  and  as  for  his  people,  why  it  would  scarcely  be 
exaggerated  to  classify  the  Bible  as  an  anti-Semitic  book. 
The  Jewish  Kings  never  received,  like  the  Roman  Emper- 
ors, the  honors  of  apotheosis,  and  the  Prophet  stood  always 
in  the  shadow  of  the  Throne,  a  rebuking  reminder  of  the 
truer  majesty.  This  grip  of  the  actual  world  of  flesh  and 
blood  has  probably  been  behind  the  national  refusal  to 
idealize  a  man  into  immaculate  divinity. 

Following,  therefore,  at  however  great  a  distance,  the 
highest  models  in  the  literature  of  his  race,  the  present 
chronicler  has  humbly  sought  to  sink  himself  and  every 
other  consideration  in  the  pursuit  of  the  realities  of  char- 
acter and  incident,  though  he  has  striven  to  present  Truth 
in  the  more  vivid  form  of  Art.  He  has  essayed  to  paint 
the  portraits  of  his  Dreamers  from  the  life  :  with  all  their 
complexities,  egotisms,  and  limitations.  Even  Spinoza,  the 
greatest  figure  of  them  all,  who  came  as  near  one  type  of 
perfection  as  mortal  can  attain,  is  not  conceived  as  always 
consistent  with  his  theories. 

Of  the  many  historical  expressions,  beautiful  or  grotesque 
or  deadening,  prosaic  or  mystic,  that  Judaism  has  had,  of 
the  many  strata  of  emotion  and  thought  and  aspiration  that 
it  holds  in  sequence  or  fusion,  the  present  chronicler  has 
tried  here  and  elsewhere  to  exhibit  some  in  living  action. 
These  varied  religious  conceptions,  which  he  has  presented 
without  criticising  them,  are  more  unified  perhaps  by  their 
peculiar  relation  to  the  one  people,  Israel,  than  by  their 
own  inner  afiinities.  Had  not  ceremonial  Judaism  pur- 
sued its  steady  way  amid  all  these  variants,  all  these  sects 
and  philosophies,  weaving  into  itself  ever  fresh  strands  of 

526 


TO    THE    AMERICAN    JEW 

tragic  history,  had  not  all  these  phenomena  found  their 
reconciling  synthesis  in  the  House  of  Israel — which  they 
often  nominally  divided  against  itself — we  should  not  have 
been  able  to  speak  so  plausibly  of  "Judaism"  as  if  it  were 
some  one  definite  and  fixed  system,  Avhich  any  rabbi  could 
explain  like  Hillel,  stans  ^Jede  in  uno.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
Judaism  has  gone  through  all  stages  logically  conceivable, 
and  has  colored  itself  Avith  every  moral  and  spiritual  envi- 
ronment. Through  Philo  it  sought  reconciliation  with 
neo-Platonism,  through  Maimonides  with  the  Arabic  Aris- 
totelianism,  through  Mendelssohn  with  modern  AVestern 
civilization  ;  the  Cabalists  and  the  Ohassidim  brought  it 
dangerously  near  Christianity,  as  well  arithmetically  as 
practically.  The  unity  of  God  is  supplemented  by  the 
Ten  Sejjhiroth  or  creative  emanations  and  still  more  im- 
pugned by  the  doctrine  of  Messianic  incarnations.  In  the 
wonder-working  Zaddikini  and  the  holy  Cabalistic  magi- 
cians we  have  the  elements  of  a  hagiolatry,  strongly  akin  to 
that  of  Roman  Catholicism  and  springing  from  the  same 
pathetic  human  instincts. 

"  The  Master  of  the  Name  "  contributes  a  chapter — with- 
out which  Judaism  were  the  poorer  —  to  that  universal 
story  of  the  blessedness  of  ecstatic  communion  with  the 
soul  of  things,  which  reaches  us  from  gentle  souls  of  all 
times  and  creeds.  His  mysticism  is  not  far  removed  from 
that  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  ''When  I  say,  'Hail  Mary,' 
Heaven  and  Earth  and  Angels  rejoice  exceedingly.  Hell 
trembles,  and  the  demons  run  away." 

The  philosophy  of  Spinoza,  though  it  has  affinities  both 
with  the  logic  of  Maimonides  and  the  mysticism  of  the 
Cabalists  and  in  expression  sometimes  recalls  the  grand 
manner  of  the  ancient  prophets,  stands  nevertheless  en- 
tirely on  its  own  basis  and  is  a  gospel  for  the  Avorld,  in 
which  it  has  worked  continuously,  whether  acknowledged 

537 


APPENDIX 

or  not,  influencing  all  the  best  subsequent  thinking.     But 
for  the  ordinary  man  there  is  more  energizing  value  in  the 
Cabalistic  doctrine  that  the  Messiah  could  not  come  till 
sin  had  been  worked  out  from  the  Avorld  and  God  himself 
was  thus,  as  it  were,  restored  to  pristine  perfection.     In 
exhorting  man  to  fight  against  Evil,  all  the  Judaisms  seem 
to  agree,  and  therefore   it   is   here  that  one  might  most 
plausibly  find  the  essence  of  Judaism.     In  its  great  crea- 
tive period,  the  Jewish  genius  was  not  metaphysical.     It 
did  not  yearn  to  understand  the  causes  of  things.     It  con- 
centrated itself  upon  conduct  and,  content  with  feeling 
the  direct  stimulation  of  a  divine  force  and  a  divine  call  to 
higher  living,  did  not  seek  to  probe  metaphysically  the 
depths    of  this  relation  and   express  in   statics   what  it 
really  felt  as  dynamics.     The  most  complex  and  modern 
systems  of  philosophy  when  searchingly  analyzed  are  found 
only  to  say  that  A  is  A,  whatever  is,  is.     ''I  am  that  I 
am  " — the  profoundest  saying  in  the  Pentateuch — sums  up 
all  we  can  really  know  of  the  Infinite  Eternal  Energy  on 
its  transcendental  side.     AVe,  whose  utmost  capacity  is  to 
fashion  stuff  already  given  us,  whose  lives  are  but  curving 
waves  that  swell  and  break  in  a  measureless  ocean,  can 
have  no  remotest  comprehension  of  a  timeless,  spaceless 
Force  that  should  create  as  well  as  shape.     "I  am  that  I 
am  "  remains  for  us  the  only  possible  formula.     To  pierce 
behind  his  emotional  certainty  of  direct  rapport  with  the 
Eternal  Will  underlying  phenomena,  the  Jewish  Prophet 
never  sought.     As  a  philosophy  of  action,  therefore,  as  an 
inspiring  impulse,  as  an  active,  emotional  attitude,  Juda- 
ism is  independent  of  changes  in  our  scientific  concep- 
tions, for  whatever  modern  thought  may  tell  ns  of  the 
Universe,  the  world  remains  unalterably  the  stage  for  the 
drama  of  our  own  will  and  emotion.     The  Cabalistic  rea- 
son for  working  against  Evil  may  not  appeal  to  the  modern 

538 


TO    THE    AMEEICAN    JEW 

mind  in  that  particular  allegorical  shape,  and  yet  the  idea 
underlying  it  of  man's  necessary  co-operation  in  redeem- 
ing the  world  from  Evil  is  a  finer  working  hypothesis  than 
the  muddled  conception  of  a  Messiah  appearing  and  by  his 
mere  appearance  mysteriously  setting  things  right. 

And  had  the  contemporaries  of  *'The  Turkish  Messiah" 
applied  this  test  of  a  sinless  universe,  they  would  not  have 
been  so  led  astray.  It  is  suggestive  that  Sabbatai  Zevi 
should  have  been  acclaimed  in  the  very  age  in  which  Spi- 
noza was  teaching — albeit  cautiously — the  universal  reign 
of  law  and  the  irrelevance  of  miracles.  But  in  many  an 
Eastern  Ghetto  to-day  that  frame  of  mind  is  still  piously 
nourished  from  which  such  delusions  spring.  Nor  has  his- 
tory yet  destroyed  the  conditions  which  preserve  the  pos- 
sibility of  reincarnations  of  all  the  other  Dreamers  of  this 
book.  So  long  as  Jews  keep  up  two  traditions  of  culture, 
so  long  as,  living  in  an  Aryan  environment  they  yet  try  to 
keep  their  thoughts  Semitic,  so  long  they  are  keeping  open 
the  possibility  of  such  mental  disturbances  as  befell  "  A 
Child  of  the  Ghetto."  He  was  shut  in  much  more  closely 
than  the  Western  Jew  of  to-day,  yet  he  could  not  but 
stumble  upon  this  larger,  unexplained  universe  outside, 
with — we  may  divine — the  consequent  ultimate  disruption 
of  early  ties  and  early  sanctities,  if  not  that  total  breach 
which  led  '^Joseph  the  Dreamer"  to  destruction.  How 
much  more  insistent  the  problem  to  the  modern  English, 
German,  or  American  Jew,  breathing  in  Aryan  culture 
through  every  pore  !  The  great  leakage  from  Judaism  is 
largely  due  to  the  existence  of  two  social  standards,  side 
by  side.  Man  is  a  social  being  and  cannot  bear  to  forfeit 
the  support  of  a  community,  but  if  there  is  another  com- 
munity waiting  outside  his,  with  no  disapproval,  indeed, 
with  rather  approval  for  his  aclo})ting  their  habits  and  cus- 
toms, what  wonder  if  he  is  drawn  without  ?  It  needs  an 
2l  529 


APPENDIX 

intense  conviction,  a  strong  raisoji  (VUre  to  persuade  a 
modern  Jew  to  perpetuate  a  moral  Ghetto.  It  is  folly 
to  imagine  that  a  few  Hebrew  lessons  and  a  few  spe- 
cial festivals  will  produce  a  morally  Semitic  personality 
in  face  of  the  perpetual  insidiously  -  destructive  wash  of 
the  waves  of  alien  life  round  this  would-be  island.  The 
environment  is  too  strong.  Through  innumerable  chan- 
nels, the  sea  steals  and  gains  upon  the  Jew.  He  reads 
books  but  they  are  not  Jewish  books,  sees  pictures  but 
they  do  not  expi'ess  the  Jewish  vision  of  life,  liears  music 
but  it  touches  no  chord  of  national  feeling.  The  old  Kab- 
bis  were  shrewder  who  built  dykes  and  barriers.  It  was  a 
true  instinct  of  self-preservation  that  made  the  Ghetto 
drive  out  "  The  Maker  of  Lenses,"  and  keep  German  books 
from  "Maimon  the  Fool."  It  is  the  more  superficial 
Jewish  thought  of  our  day  that  imagines  that  nine-tenths 
of  the  influences  of  our  age  Jews  can  share  with  the  Aryan 
world  and  yet  be  mysteriously  separate  in  the  remaining 
fraction,  that  they  can  sit  with  Aryans  at  the  feet  of  the 
same  Aryan  university  professors  and  yet  have  something 
unique  and  distinctive  of  their  own  to  teach.  It  is  true 
that  the  moral  ideals  they  receive  from  the  Aryan  world 
are  often  only  their  own  back  again,  yet  if  this  be  so,  the 
less  reason  for  remaining  apart  from  it.  In  fact  it  is  only 
their  remaining  differences  with  Aryan  thought  that  jus- 
tify continued  isolation  ;  and  therefore  it  is  on  the  validity 
and  importance  of  these  differences  that  from  a  logical, 
tliough  not  a  psychological,  point  of  view,  tlie  whole  ques- 
tion of  the  persistence  of  Judaism  hinges.  For  the  present 
head  of  the  Zionist  movement  these  differences  are  insig- 
nificant, and  the  assumption  that  the  Jew  has  anything  to 
teach  modern  civilization  is  mere  impertinence.  And  the 
Jew's  only  excuse  for  survival  is  the  unquenchable  feeling 
of  Jewish  brotherhood  and  the  unconquerable  instinct  of 

580 


TO    THE    AMERICAN    JEW 

all  other  peoples  ngainst  accepting  him  as  brother  of  theirs. 
But  while  the  Zionist  or  national  solution  of  the  Jewish 
problem  (for  Zion,  although  the  most  inspiring,  is  not  the 
only  possible  centre  for  a  restored  Jewish  nationality)  is 
not  incompatible  with  a  belief  in  the  spiritual  value  to  the 
world  of  such  a  Jewish  State,  indeed  the  orthodox  view 
combines  the  two,  yet  the  final  abandonment  of  Zionist 
hopes  increases  immeasurably  the  undermining  influences 
which  assail  Judaism.  It  renders  necessary — and  this  is 
the  value  and  warning  of  the  newest  movement — an  im- 
mense strengthening  of  the  Jewish  spiritual  consciousness, 
a  burning  conviction  of  some  great  world -part  to  play, 
some  great  world-end  to  serve,  and  one  that  can  even  be 
better  served  by  diffused  isolation  than  concentrated  isola- 
tion. The  destruction  of  the  actual  Ghetto  gates  was  a 
destruction  of  dykes  even  though  of  dykes  made  by  the 
enemy.  The  abolition  or  attenuation  of  dietary  and  ritual 
traditions  leaves  Judaism  only  the  impalpable  defences  of 
the  spirit.  The  principles  of  Jewish  Reform  declared  at 
the  Pittsburg  Conference  in  1885  constitute  perhaps  the 
broadest  and  finest  creed  ever  formally  enunciated  by  any 
religious  body.  But  it  is  questionable  whether  the  Re- 
formers, in  America  as  in  England  or  Germany,  were  not 
misled  (like  '*  Uriel  Acosta'')  by  the  obvious  puerility  of 
much  of  the  work  of  the  Rabbis,  into  precipitate  condem- 
nation of  it,  without  attempting  to  penetrate  its  inner 
secret.  In  regarding  Judaism  as  only  spiritual,  they  not 
only  fined  away  the  difference  between  modern  Judaism 
and  modern  (rationalistic)  Christianity  to  vanishing  point, 
but  parted  company  with  the  sanctified-sociology  side  of 
Judaism,  the  conception  of  the  codified  authority  of  relig- 
ion over  the  physical  life,  and  thus  lost  the  opportunity  of 
weaving  into  the  old  codification  the  latest  teachings  of 
science  and  humanity.     It  is  true  that  the  law  of  the  laud 

531 


APPENDIX 

and  the  custom  of  the  country  replace  much  Talmudical 
legislation,  yet  this  differentiation  of  life  and  religion,  of 
soul  and  body,  is  an  Aryan  conception,  and  in  a  specifically 
Jewish  Reform,  evolving  of  its  own  inner  energy,  Judaism 
would  have  continued  to  be  practically  as  well  as  spiritually 
an  expression  of  the  best  thoughts  of  the  best  minds.  Un- 
happily this  side  of  Judaism  was  so  largely  a  parasitic 
growth  on  the  Mosaic  code  and  had  remained  so  long  a 
mere  dead  mass  of  ceremonial  that  its  independent  life- 
principle  had  evaporated.  It  was  really  a  Jewish  concep- 
tion, though  he  did  not  know  it,  that  Perfect  State  of 
*'The  People's  Saviour."  In  practically  ignoring  every- 
thing but  the  merely  spiritual  side  as  well  as  by  dropping 
the  Nationalist  hopes,  the  Reformers  have  gained  width  at 
the  expense  of  depth  and  content,  and  only  therefore  a 
specially  intense  sense  of  spiritual  mission  will  avert  their 
absorption  into  the  environment,  or — a  more  valuable  re- 
sult—enable them  to  absorb  it.  For  in  the  growing  con- 
vergence of  religious  thought  towards  a  common  ideal,  and 
that  more  Jewish  than  Christian,  the  original  body  of  "re- 
form Jews"'  must,  unless  they  are  inconsistent,  be  lost  in 
the  mass  of  proselytes  or  of  non-Christians,  with  whom  they 
will  have  intermarried.  Still  the  disappearance  of  Jews  in 
the  success  of  Judaism  would  be  no  deplorable  end  of  the 
great  dream.  Judaism  has  always  had  proselytes— in  some 
periods  in  great  numbers — and  if  they,  or  even  Jews  in 
spirit,  became  numerous  enough  to  swamp  the  nucleus,  it 
■  is  not  for  the  people  of  the  Prophets  to  complain.  If, 
however,  every  "reform  Jew,"  every  non-national  Jew, 
who  still  has  a  prejudice  against  fusion  with  the  general 
non-Christian  culture  of  the  age,  would  really  live  up  to 
his  alleged  spiritual  mission,  if  only  he  would  bring  it  to 
pass  that  the  unhappy  historic  connotation  of  the  word 
"  Jew  "  was  transformed  into  a  synonym  of  the  noblest 

532 


i 


TO    THE    AMERICAN    JEW 

manhood,  there  would  be  ample  justification  for  Israel 
standing  apart  as  "a  nation  of  witnesses."  Some  great 
common  ideal,  notably  fruitful  in  visible  deeds,  will  alone 
justify  the  abstention  of  the  Jew  from  the  larger  human 
brotherhood.  For  Jews  to  be  Germans  in  Germany, 
Frenchmen  in  France,  Englishmen  in  England,  Ameri- 
cans in  America,  divided  by  every  frontier,  sharing  in  no 
common  brotherhood,  dreaming  of  no  common  father- 
land, and  at  one  with  their  various  fellow-countrymen  in 
everything  but  religious  observance  or  —  worse  ! — every- 
thing but  intermarriage,  would  be  an  anti-climax  to  the 
long  tragedy  of  Israel,  more  paralyzing  to  its  finer  spirits 
than  the  Ghetto  itself,  more  deadening  to  the  genius  of 
the  race,  unless  this  apparent  fragmentariness  were  re- 
deemed and  lifted  into  a  higher  unity  by  some  inter- 
national conception  of  a  Judaism  working  itself  out  in 
analogous  action  upon  the  respective  environments.  The 
sons  of  Zion  were  only  preserved  in  exile  by  becoming  sons 
of  the  Law,  inhabitants  of  the  Idea.  The  alternative  still 
remains.     Either  a  common  country  or  a  common  Idea. 

In  the  unhappy  attempt  of  Judaism  to  sit  upon  two 
stools,  to  be  everything  and  nothing,  it  is  a  force  that 
annihilates  itself.  Instead  of  a  great  free-masonry  work- 
ing for  common  ends  it  threatens  to  dwindle  into  a  series 
of  communities  whose  only  unity  would  consist  in  their 
not  being  trinitarian.  But  of  what  value  are  negations  ? 
We  live  by  our  affirmations.  Without  a  creed  ''whose 
seed  is  in  itself,"  fructifying  in  poems,  philosophies,  and 
movements,  a  people  but  cumbers  the  ground. 

The  political  action  of  the  Jews  is  infinitely  diversified, 
and  one  Jew  annuls  another.  In  the  motto  of  the  Jewish 
Publication  Society,  ''Israel's  mission  is  peace,"  lies  a 
possible  suggestion  for  a  Jewish  standpoint.  It  is  not 
perhaps  the  only  one,  but  assuredly  a  Jewish  standpoint  of 

533 


APPENDIX 

some  sort  there  must  be.  And  the  honr  for  Jewish  ideals 
— if  not  now,  wlieu  ?  as  Ilillel  asked.  No  one  who  feels  the 
pulse  of  the  world  can  doubt  but  that  we  are  on  the  brink 
of  a  neo-Paganism,  however  it  masquerade.  In  the  ages 
of  oppression  it  was  all  the  Jews  could  do  to  survive,  but 
Avhen  once  they  have  achieved  emancipation  they  have  no 
right  to  survive  without  a  specific  attitude,  they  have  no 
right  to  preserve  their  isolation  with  the  tragedies  it  en- 
genders, not  to  mention  the  sordid  train  of  vulgarities  and 
hypocrisies.  Mere  every -day  life  is  too  fertile  in  evils 
without  superfluous  complications.  Tragedies,  as  Occam 
said  of  hypothetical  Causes,  are  not  to  be  multiplied  be- 
yond necessity.  The  great  Judenschmerz  which  added  its 
pang  to  Heine's  ''Mattress  Grave,"  and  helped  to  disin- 
tegrate the  life  of  the  poor  pessimist  of  **  Chad  Gadya," 
must  be  mitigated  by  all  honorable  means.  In  many 
countries  Christianity  has  now  done  its  part  towards  heal- 
ing the  wound.  It  is  for  Judaism  to  complete  the  cure. 
In  ''Chad  Gadya"  we  see  fulfilled  the  prediction  of 
Isaiah  :  "Even  the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and 
the  young  men  shall  utterly  fail."  It  is  time  for  Judaism 
to  dip  itself  again  in  the  waters   of  life. 

The  Zionist  ideal  offers  one  possible  rebaptism,  but  to 
doubt  whether  Palestine  can  support  the  Jews  may  be  a 
higher  patriotism  than  to  rhapsodize  over  Zion.  A  scientific 
survey  should  precede  any  financial  operations  on  a  grand 
scale.  But  in  any  case,  as  it  is  impracticable  for  the  bulk 
of  the  Jews  to  return  to  Palestine  in  any  one  generation, 
though  a  gradual  drift  might  take  place  thither,  if  the 
political  and  financial  difficulties  could  be  overcome  and 
a  nucleus  of  prosjierity  established,  the  attitude  of  those 
who  are  content  to  stay  at  home  towards  those  who  wish  to 
go  must  depend  entirely  upon  the  number  and  character  of 
these  latter  —  a  point  as  yet  undetermined.     A  genuine 

534 


TO    THE    AMERICAN    JEW 

movement  would  deserve  the  support  and  guidance  of  the 
best  Jews.  But  the  accusation  of  waiting  to  see  how  the 
wind  blows  cannot  be  levelled  against  the  non-Zionists  since 
it  is  of  the  very  essence  of  the  question  whether  there  is  a 
Avind  at  all,  or  at  least  a  wind  that  may  be  counted  a  mov- 
ing force.  The  movement  is  said  to  be  strongest  in  the 
countries  of  which  Western  Jews  know  least.  But  so  far 
as  is  known,  it  is  less  an  internal  energizing  than  a  result 
of  external  persecution.  A  force  externally  initiated 
might,  by  enkindling  latent  emotions,  conceivably  generate 
an  internal  enthusiasm  —  the  only  real  motive  -  power  in 
human  history.  This  motive-power  would  inevitably  be 
supplemented  by  the  self-seeking  of  pauper  Jews,  anxious 
to  get  something  anywhere,  of  commercial  Jews,  anxious 
to  gain  something  anywhere,  and  of  ambitious  Jews,  anx- 
ious to  be  something  anywhere  ;  but  so  long  as  there  was  a 
sufficient  leaven  of  enthusiasm  and  culture,  neither  these 
grosser  elements  nor  the  stagnant  Judaism  already  in  pos- 
session at  Jerusalem  would  suffice  to  clog  the  movement. 
Such  a  real  renaissance  would  soon  sweep  away  and  ren- 
der superfluous  all  machine-made  schemes.  For  in  fact  a 
race,  like  a  man,  can  do  anything  it  wills  to  do,  subject 
only  to  the  limitations  of  the  co-existing  conditions.  The 
mission  of  Israel,  therefore,  is  exactly  what  Israel  conceives 
it  should  and  can  do. 

Without  an  active  moral  idea — a  concept  not  of  a  Perfect 
State  but  of  a  State  as  perfect  as  science  and  love  can 
make  it — even  a  successful  Zionist  movement  would  only 
be  a  political  solution  of  a  situation  which  is  not  really 
pressing  save  here  and  there.  Maimonides  solved  the  per- 
plexities of  the  more  philosophic  spirits  in  the  mediaeval 
Jewries.  A  modern  ''Guide  of  the  Perplexed"  is  at  least 
as  necessary  as  a  Guide  of  the  Persecuted.  But  Zionism 
would  at  any  rate  preserve  the  race  for  inspirations  to 

535 


APPENDIX 

come.    Whereas,  without  either  Zionism  or  an  international 
spiritual  ideal,  Judaism  must  deservedly  disappear. 

For  the  tragedy  of  "Nathan  the  Wise"  must  repeat 
itself  as  inevitably  as  that  of  "Mainion  the  Fool."  The 
ceremonies  and  customs  which  may  remain  dear  to  the 
emancipated  child  of  the  Ghetto  whose  philosophy  will 
find  reasons  for  his  affection,  Avill  not  remain  equally  dear 
to  the  grandchildren  of  the  Ghetto,  for  many  of  whom, 
moreover,  the  transition  is  not  even  softened  by  a  philo- 
sophic parent. 

Yet  for  those  who  remain  unpermeated  by  modern  influ- 
ences, or  who  with  the  happy  illogicality  of  the  human 
heart  can  run  two  contradictory  life-concepts  at  once,  the 
old  Judaism  will  long  retain  its  wonderful  charm  and  self- 
conservative  virtue.  The  new  creations  of  Conferences 
can  never  rival  that  long  historic  tradition,  in  which  are 
intertwined  so  many  strands  of  aspiration  and  suffering, 
that  curious  medley  of  picturesque  poetry  and  dry-as-dust 
prose,  which  only  Evolution  can  produce  ;  from  which  once 
Christianity,  and  in  our  own  day  Reform  Judaism,  de- 
parted at  an  abrupt  tangent,  but  which  may  still  continue 
to  have  a  life  of  its  own,  if  it  continues  to  change  and 
develop  from  within  as  all  living  things  must,  and  as 
orthodox  Judaism  always  did  in  its  periods  of  real  vital- 
ity. All  the  Reformer  is  entitled  to  ask  of  it  is  that  deed 
should  be  on  the  level  of  creed,  for  what  expression  of 
Judaism  but  glows  with  high  ideals  ?  It  is  indeed  less 
Judaism  than  the  Jew  that  needs  Reformation.  The  Jew 
is  too  ready  to  plead  his  past,  to  rest  on  the  laurels  of  per- 
secution. But  in  truth  he  has  been  as  ready  to  persecute 
himself,  nor  have  the  Christians  been  less  ready  to  per- 
secute one  another.  Of  his  past  i)ersecutors  it  were  bet- 
ter for  the  Jew  to  say  ;  "  Forgive  them  for  they  knew  not 
what  they  did." 

536 


TO    THE    AMERICAN    JEW 

The  Dreamers  of  this  book  had  almost  all  to  bear  perse- 
cution of  some  sort,  yet  they  were  the  greater  for  their 
dreams.  Those  who  dream  dreams  must  take  the  risk. 
Self-forgetfulness  is  not  a  commercial  speculation.  It  is 
its  own  inspiration,  its  own  reward. 

May  the  Dreamers  of  Israel  not  end  with  the  Ghetto  I 
May  some  future  Chronicler  continue  the  roll  of  honor 
when  the  hand  that  pens  these  lines  is  dust. 


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born." — Emil  G.  IIiusch,  Reform  Advocate. 


PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  FIRST  CONVENTION  OF  THE 
NATIONAL  COUNCIL  OF  JEWISH  WOMEN.— New  York, 
1896.     426  pp.     $1.00. 

"Among  the  many  speeches  recorded,  we  have  found  several  of  much 
more  than  ordinary  power." — Public  Opinion. 


PAPERS  OF  THE  JEWISH  WOMEN'S  CONGRESS.— Chicago, 
1893.    270  pp.    $1.00. 

"This  collection  interprets  the  motive  force  which  actuates  the  daugh- 
ters of  Israel  under  all  life's  circumstances,  and  it  is  certainly  to  the  credit 
of  the  Jewish  women  of  America  that  they  should  have  been  able  to  so  effect- 
ually voice  the  sentiments  and  thoughts  that  pervade  their  sex." — Jewish 
World,  London. 

3 


PUBLICATIONS 

FICTION 

IN    THE   PALE.    Stories  and  Lerjends  of  the  Russian  Jews.— By 

Henry  Iliowizi.    367  pp.     $1.25. 

"  Henry  Iliowizi  ....  is  a  master  of  both  liuraor  and  pathos,  as  is  shown 
in  his  book  of  stories  and  legends  entitled  '  In  the  Pale.' " — Sunday-School 
Times. 

CHILDREN     OF    THE    GHETTO.— By  L  Zangwill.     2  vols. 

451  pp.,  325  pp.     $2.50. 

"Nowhere  else  has  been  given  us  more  realistic  pictures  of  tlie  shal)hi- 
ness,  the  unwholesomeness,  the  close-packed  human  misery,  the  squalor,  the 
vulgarity,  the  sharp  struggle  in  the  mean  competition  of  life,  in  the  East 
End  of  London.  .  .  .  [But]  there  is  a  world  of  poetry,  of  dreams,  of  imagi- 
nation, of  high  calling,  of  intellectual  subtlety  even,  in  which  sordid  London, 
not  Jewish,  has  no  part  nor  lot."  —  Chaules  Dudley  Warner,  Harpers 
Magazine. 

RABBI  AND  PRIEST.— By  Milton  Goldsmith.    314  pp.    $1.00. 

"  The  author  has  attempted  to  depict  faithfully  the  customs  and  prac- 
tices of  the  Russian  people  and  government  in  connection  with  the  Jewish 
population  of  that  country.  The  book  is  a  strong  and  well-written  story." — 
Public  Opinion. 

THINK  AND  THANK.— By  S.  W.  Cooper.    Illustrated.     120  pp. 

50  cents. 

"Sir  Moses  Montefiore  is  the  hero  of  this  story.  .  .  .  'Think  and  Thanlc' 
will  please  boys,  and  it  will  be  found  popular  in  Sunday-school  libraries."  — 
New  York  Herald. 

VOEGELE'S    MARRIAGE    AND    OTHER    TALES.— By  Louis 
SciiNABEL.     83  pp.     Paper.     25  cents.     (Special  Series  No.  2.) 
'"The  False  Turn '  is  a  charming  little  sketch,  and  the  humor  of  it  very 

delicate  and  amusing.     'Voegele's  Marriage'  I  find  also  very  artistic  and 

interesting." — Emma  Lazarus. 


Publications  sent  from  the  Society's  office  post-paid.     For  sale  by  the  Trade 
Special  terms  to  schools  and  libraries. 

THE  JEWISH  PUBLiGATIOH  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICA 

1015  Arch  Street  (P.  0.  Box  1164) 
PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 


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m    APR  28 1974 


Form  L9-40m-7,'56(C790s4)444 


J  9 1963 

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